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THE
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I. FORMS of WATBB : in Clouds and Rivera, loo and
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on the Habits of the Social Hymenoptera. By Lord Avebdry.
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D.D. With 111 Illustrations and Map*. Second Edition.
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By Thomas R. R. Stkbblnq, M.A. With 19 Plates and 82 Figures in
Text.
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means of Dispersal possessed by Fresh Water and Land Molhisca. By
H. Wallw Kkw, F.Z.S. With Preface by A. K. Wallace, F.R.S., and
Illustrations.
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in the Anthropological School, Paris.
LXXVII. The ORIGIN of PLANT STRUCTURE S by SELF-
ADAPTATION TO TUB ENVIRONMENT. By Rev. O. Henslow,
M.A., F.L.S., F.G.S., 4c, author of *The Origin of Floral Structures,' Ac.
LXXVIII. ICE- WORK PRESENT and PAST. By Rev. T. G.
Bonnky, D.Sc. LL.D., F.R.S., Ac, Professor ot Geology at University
College, London ; Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge.
LXXIX. A CONTRIBUTION to our KNOWLEDGE of
SEEDLINGS. By Lord Avkbury.
LXXX. The ABT of MUSIC. By Sir C. Hubert H. Parry, Mub. Doc.
LXXXI. The POLAB AURORA. By Alfred Anoot. Illustrated.
LXXXII. WHAT is ELECTRICITY P By J. Trowbridge. Illustrated.
LXXXIII. MEMORY. By F. W. Edbidgb-Grren, M.D. With
Frontispiece.
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Vincent. With Diagrams. Second Edition.
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Author of ' Earthquakes.' With 68 Figures.
LXXXVI. On BUDS and STIPULES. By Lord Avebury,
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Text.
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By Jean Demoor, Jean Massart, and Emile Vanderveldb. Translated
by Mrs. Chalmers Mitchell. With 84 Figures.
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H. M. Vernon, M.A., M.D.
London: KEG AN PAUL, TRENCH, TROBNER, & CO., Ltd.
y
International Scientific Series,
volume lxxxix.
The International Scientific Series
Edited by F. Legge
THE MIND AND THE
BRAIN
BT
ALFRED BINET
DnUKTBTJR DU LABORATOIRl DI PSYCHOLOGIK
1 LA 80RBOHHE
BRING THE AUTHORISED TRANSLATION OF
UAME ET LK CORf$ \
LONDON
KEG AN PAUL, TRENCH, TRttBNER & CO. L^
DRTDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W.
1907
572422 A
rtfrfai of translation and of reproduction art retried
Printed by Ballakttm, Hahsom & Co.
At the BftlUntjrae Frees
CONTENTS
BOOK I
The Definition of Matter
CHAPTER I
Introduction
The distinction between mind and matter — Knowable not
homogeneous — Criterion employed, enumeration not
concepts . . . . v
CHAPTER II
Our Knowledge of External Objects onlt
Sensation
Modern theories of matter — Outer world only known to
us by our sensations — Instances — Mill's approval of
proposition, and its defects — Nervous system only
intermediary between self and outer world — The
great X of Matter — Nervous system does not give
us true image — Mullens law of specificity of the
^ _ nerves — The nervous system itself a sensation — Rc-
lations of sensation with the unknowable the affair
00 of metaphysics
v.i
viii
CONTENTS
CHAPTER HI
The Mechanical Theories of Matter are only
Symbols
Physicists vainly endeavour to reduce the r61e of sensation
— Mathematical, energetical, and mechanical theories
of universe — Mechanical model formed from sensation
— Instance of tuning-fork — No one sensation any
right to hegemony over others
CHAPTER IV
Answers to some Objections, and Summary
Objections of spiritualists — Of German authors who con-
tend that nervous system does give true image — Of
metaphysicians — Common ground of objection that
nervous system not intermediary — Answer to this —
Summary of preceding chapters
BOOK II
The Definition of Mind
CHAPTER I
The Distinction between Cognition and its
Object
Necessity for inventory of mental phenomena — Objects of
cognition and acts of cognition — Definition of con-
sciousness
CHAPTER H
Definition of Sensation
Sensation denned by experimental psychology — A state of
consciousness — Considered self-evident by Mill, Re-
nouvier, and Hume — Psycho-physical according to
Reid and Hamilton— Reasons in favour of last defini-
tion—Other opinions examined and refuted
CONTENTS
ix
CHAPTER HI
Definition of the Image
pagh
Perception and ideation cannot be separated — Perception
constituted by addition of image to sensation — Hallu-
cinations — Objections anticipated and answered . . 76
CHAPTER IV
Definition of the Emotions
Contrary opinions as to nature of emotions — Emotion a
phenomenon tui generic — Intellectualist theory of
emotion supported by Lange and James — Is emotion
only a perception? Is effort? — Question left un-
answered ■ . .88
CHAPTER V
Definition of the Consciousness-— The Relation
Subject-Objkct
Can thoughts be divided into subject and object ? — This
division cannot apply to the consciousness — Subject
of cognition itself an object— James' opinion examined
— Opinion that subject is spiritual substance and con-
sciousness its faculty refuted 96
CHAPTER VI
Definition of the Consciousness — Categories of
the Understanding
Principle of relativity doubted — Tables of categories :
Aristotle, Kant, and Renouvier — Kantian idealism —
Phenomenism of Berkeley examined and rejected —
Argument of a priorists — The intelligence only an
inactive consciousness — Huxley's epiphenomenal con-
sciousness — Is the consciousness necessary ? — Impos-
sibility of answering this question .... 103
b
X
CONTENTS
CHAPTER VII
Definition op the Consciousness— The Separa-
bility op the Consciousness from its Object
— Discussion of Idealism
Can the consciousness be separated from its object ? —
Idealists consider the object a modality of the con-
sciousness and thus inseparable from it — Futility of
this doctrine — Object can exist without consciousness
CHAPTER VIII
Definition of the Consciousness — The Separa-
tion of the Consciousness from its object
—The Unconscious
Can ideas exist without consciousness? — No conscious-
ness without an object — Can the consciousness
die?— Enfeeblement of consciousness how accounted
for — Doubling of consciousness in hysterics — Re-
lations of physiological phenomena to consciousness
— Consciousness cannot become unconscious and yet
exist
CHAPTER IX
Definitions of Psychology
Difficulty of defining psychology — Definition by sub-
stance — Psychology not the science of the soul —
Definition by enumeration : its error — Definition by
method contradicts idea of consciousness— Externo-
spection and introspection sometimes confused —
Definition by content — Facts cannot be divided into
those of consciousness and of unconsciousness —
Descartes' definition of psychology insufficient —
44 Within and without" simile un analogous — Defini-
tion by point of view — Inconsistencies of Ebbinghaus'
contention — W. James' teleological theory — Definition
by the peculiar nature of mental laws only one
possible : why ?
CONTENTS
zi
BOOK III
The Union op the Soxtl and the Body
CHAPTER I
The Mind has an Incomplete Life
PA.GB
Problem of anion of mind and body stated — Axiom of
heterogeneity must be rejected — Phenomena of
consciousness incomplete — Aristotle's relatum and
corrdatum applied to the terms mind and matter . 179
CHAPTER II
Spiritualism and Idealism
Spiritualist view that death cute link between soul and
body — Explanation of link fatal to system — Conscious-
ness cannot exercise functions without objects of
cognition — Idealism a kaleidoscopic system — Four
affirmations of idealism: their inconsistency — Ad-
vantages of historical method 191
CHAPTER HI
Materialism and Parallelism
Materialism oldest doctrine of all : many patristic authors
lean towards it — Modern form of, receives impulse from
advance of physical science — Earl Vogt's comparison
of secretions of brain with that of kidneys— All
materialist doctrines opposed to principle of hetero-
geneity — Modern materialism would make object
generate consciousness — Materialists cannot demon-
strate how molecular vibrations can be transformed into
objects — Parallelism avoids issue by declaring mind
to be function of brain — Parallelists declare physical
and psychical life to be two parallel currents — Bain's
support of this — Objections to : most important that it
postulates consciousness as a complete whole . 201
zii
CONTENTS
CHAPTER IV
Modern Theories
PAOB
Berkeley's idealism revived by Bergson, though with
different standpoint — Admirable nature of Bergson's
exposition — Fallacy of, part assigned to -sensory
nerves — Conscious sensations must be subsequent to
excitement of sensory nerves and dependent on their
integrity 225
CHAPTER V
Conclusion
Author's own theory only a hypothesis — Important con-
ditions for solution of problem — Manifestations of
consciousness conditioned by brain, but this last un-
conscious — Consciousness perceives only external
object — Specificity of nerves not absolute — Why re-
peated excitements of nerve tend to become un-
conscious—Formation of habit and " instinct " —
Resemblance to and distinction of this from parallelism
— Advantages of new theory 234
CHAPTER VI
Rega pitulation
Description of matter— Definition of mind — Objections
to, answered — Incomplete existence of mind — Other
theories — Nervous system must add its own effect to
that of its excitant 256
BOOK I
THE DEFINITION OF MATTER
A
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN 1
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
This book is a prolonged effort to establish a
distinction between what is called mind and
what is called matter. Nothing is more simple
than to realise this distinction when you do
not go deeply into it; nothing is more difficult
when you analyse it a little. At first sight, it
seems impossible to confuse things so far apart
as a thought and a block of stone ; but on reflec-
tion this great contrast vanishes, and other
differences have to be sought which are less
apparent and of which one has not hitherto
dreamed.
First let us say how the question presents
itself to us. The fact which we must take as
1 L'Ame tt It Corpt. — Disagreeable as it is to alter an author's
title, the words " Soul and Body" had to be abandoned because
of their different connotation in English. The title " Mind
and Body " was also preoccupied by Bain's work of that name
in this series. The title chosen has M. Binet's approval.— Ed.
3
4 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
a starting point, for it is independent of every
kind of theory, is that there exists something
which is "knowable." Not only science, but
ordinary life and our everyday conversation,
imply that there are things that we know. It
is with regard to these things that we have
to ask ourselves if some belong to what we
call the mind and others to what we call
matter.
Let us suppose, by way of hypothesis, the
knowable to be entirely and absolutely homo-
geneous. In that case we should be obliged to
set aside the question as one already decided.
Where everything is homogeneous, there is no
distinction to be drawn. But this hypothesis is,
as we all know, falsified by observation. The
whole body of the knowable is formed from an
agglomeration of extremely varied elements,
amongst which it is easy to distinguish a
large number of divisions. Things may be
classified according to their colour, their shape,
their weight, the pleasure they give us, their
quality of being alive or dead, and so on; one
much given to classification would only be
troubled by the number of possible distinctions.
Since so many divisions are possible, at which
shall we stop and say: this is the one which
corresponds exactly to the opposition of mind
and matter? The choice is not easy to make;
INTRODUCTION
5
for we shall see that certain authors put the
distinction between the physical and the mental
in one thing, others in another. Thus there
have been a very large number of distinctions
proposed, and their number is much greater
than is generally thought. Since we propose to
make ourselves judges of these distinctions, since,
in fact, we shall reject most of them in order
to suggest entirely new ones, it must be supposed
that we shall do so by means of a criterion. Other-
wise, we should only be acting fantastically. We
should be saying peremptorily, " In my opinion
this is mental/' and there would be no more
ground for discussion than if the assertion were
" I prefer the Romanticists to the Classicists/' or
" I consider prose superior to poetry."
The criterion which I have employed, and which
I did not analyse until the unconscious use I had
made of it revealed its existence to me, is based
on the two following rules : —
1. A Rule of Method. — The distinction between
mind and matter must not only apply to the
whole of the knowable, but must be the deepest
which can divide the knowable, and must further
be one of a permanent character. A priori,
there is nothing to prove the existence of such
a distinction; it must be sought for and, when
found, closely examined.
2. An Indication of Hie Direction in which the
6
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Search must be Made. — Taking into account the
position already taken up by the majority of
philosophers, the manifestation of mind, if it
exists, must be looked for in the domain of
facts dealt with by psychology, and the mani-
festation of matter in the domain explored by
physicists.
I do not conceal from myself that there may be
much that is arbitrary in my own criterion; but
this does not seem to me possible to avoid. We
must therefore appeal to psychology, and ask
whether it is cognisant of any phenomenon offer-
ing a violent, lasting, and ineffaceable contrast
with all the rest of the knowable.
The Method of Concepts and the Method of
Enumeration. — Many authors are already en-
gaged in this research, and employ a method
which I consider very bad and very dangerous —
the method of concepts. This consists in look-
ing at real and concrete phenomena in their
most abstract form. For example, in studying
the mind, they use this word "mind" as a general
idea which is supposed to contain all the charac-
teristics of psychical phenomena ; but they do not
wait to enumerate these characteristics or to realise
them, and they remain satisfied with the extremely
vague idea springing from an unanalysed concept.
Consequently they use the word " mind " with the
imprudence of a banker who should discount a
INTRODUCTION
7
trade bill without ascertaining whether the pay-
ment of that particular piece of paper had been
provided for. This amounts to saying that
the discussion of philosophical problems takes
especially a verbal aspect ; and the more complex
the phenomena a concept thus handled contains,
the more dangerous it is. A concept of the colour
red has but a very simple content, and by using
it, this content can be very clearly represented.
But how can the immense meaning of the word
" mind " be realised every time that it is used ?
For example, to define mind and to separate it from
the rest of the knowable which is called matter,
the general mode of reasoning is as follows : all
the knowable which is apparent to our senses is
essentially reduced to motion ; " mind/' that some-
thing which lives, feels, and judges, is reduced to
" thought." To understand the difference between
matter and mind, it is necessary to ask one's self
whether there exists any analogy in nature between
motion and thought. Now this analogy does not
exist, and what we comprehend, on the contrary, is
their absolute opposition. Thought is not a move-
ment, and has nothing in common with a movement.
A movement is never anything else but a displace-
ment, a transfer, a change of place undergone by
a particle of matter. What relation of similarity
exists between this geometrical fact and a desire,
an emotion, a sensation of bitterness ? Far from
8 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
being identical, these two facts are as distinct as
any facts can be, and their distinction is so deep
that it should be raised to the height of a prin-
ciple, the principle of heterogeneity.
This is almost exactly the reasoning that num-
bers of philosophers have repeated for several
years without giving proof of much originality.
This is what I term the metaphysics of concept,
for it is a speculation which consists in juggling
with abstract ideas. The moment that a philo-
sopher opposes thought to movement, I ask myself
under what form he can think of a "thought."
I suppose he must very poetically and very
vaguely represent to himself something light and
subtle which contrasts with the weight and
grossness of material bodies. And thus our
philosopher is punished in the sinning part; his
contempt of the earthly has led him into an
abuse of abstract reasoning, and this abuse has
made him the dupe of a very naYve physical
metaphor.
At bottom I have not much faith in the
nobility of many of our abstract ideas. In a
former psychological study 1 I have shown that
many of our abstractions are nothing else than
embryonic, and, above all, loosely defined concrete
ideas, which can satisfy only an indolent mind, and
are, consequently, full of snares.
1 iutde experimentaU de VInUUigence. Paris : Schleioher.
INTRODUCTION
9
The opposition between mind and matter
appears to me to assume a very different mean-
ing if, instead of repeating ready-made formulas
and wasting time on the game of setting concept
against concept, we take the trouble to return
to the study of nature, and begin by drawing
up an inventory of the respective phenomena of
mind and matter, examining with each of these
phenomena the characteristics in which the first-
named differ from the second. It is this last
method, more slow but more sure than the
other, that we shall follow ; and we will com-
mence by the study of matter.
CHAPTER II
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS IS
ONLY SENSATIONS
Of late years numerous studies have been pub-
lished on the conception of matter, especially
by physicists, chemists, and mathematicians.
Among these recent contributions to science I
will quote the articles of Duhem on the
Evolution of Mechanics published in 1903 in
the Revue ginirale des Sciences, and other
articles by the same author, in 1904, in the
Revue de Philosophic Duhem's views have at-
tracted much attention, and have dealt a serious
blow at the whole theory of the mechanics of
matter. Let me also quote that excellent work
of Dastre, La Vie et la Mort, wherein the author
makes so interesting an application to biology of
the new theories on energetics ; the discussion be-
tween Ostwald and Brillouin on matter, in which
two rival conceptions find themselves engaged in a
veritable hand-to-hand struggle (Revue gintrale
des Sciences, Nov. and Dec. 1895); the curious
work of Dantec on les Lois Natwrettes, in which
the author ingeniously points out the different
xo
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS u
sensorial districts into which science is divided,
although, through a defect in logic, he accepts
mechanics as the final explanation of things.
And last, it is impossible to pass over, in silence,
the rare works of Lord Kelvin, so full, for
French readers, of unexpected suggestions, for
they show us the entirely practical and em-
pirical value which the English attach to
mechanical models.
My object is not to go through these great
studios in detail. It is the part of mathematical
and physical philosophers to develop their ideas
on the inmost nature of matter, while seeking to
establish theories capable of giving a satisfactory
explanation of physical phenomena. This is the
point of view they take up by preference, and no
doubt they are right in so doing. The proper rdle
of the natural sciences is to look at phenomena
taken by themselves and apart from the observer.
My own intention, in setting forth these same
theories on matter, is to give prominence to a
totally different point of view. Instead of con-
sidering physical phenomena in themselves, we
shall seek to know what idea one ought to form
of their nature when one takes into account
that they are observed phenomena. While the
physicist withdraws from consideration the part
of the observer in the verification of physical
phenomena, our rdle is to renounce this abstrac-
12
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
tion, to re-establish things in their original com-
plexity, and to ascertain in what the conception
of matter consists when it is borne in mind that
all material phenomena are known only in their
relation to ourselves, to our bodies, our nerves,
and our intelligence.
This at once leads us to follow, in the exposition
of the facts, an order which the physicist abandons.
Since we seek to know what is the physical pheno-
menon we perceive, we must first enunciate this
proposition, which will govern the whole of our
discussion : to wit —
Of the outer world we know nothing except our
sensations.
Before demonstrating this proposition, let us
develop it by an example which will at least
give us some idea of its import. Let us take as
example one of those investigations in which,
with the least possible recourse to reasoning, the
most perfected processes of observation are em-
ployed, and in which one imagines that one is
penetrating almost into the very heart of nature.
Wo are, let us suppose, dissecting an animal.
After killing it, we lay bare its viscera, examine
their colour, form, dimensions, and connections;
then we dissect the organs in order to ascertain
their internal nature, their texture, structure,
and function ; then, not content with ocular
anatomy, we have recourse to the perfected pro-
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 13
oesses of histology: we take a fragment of the
tissues weighing a few milligrammes, we fix it, we
mount it, we make it into strips of no more than
a thousandth of a millimetre thick, we colour it
and place it under the microscope, we examine it
with the most powerful lenses, we sketch it, and
we explain it. All this work of complicated and
refined observation, sometimes lasting months and
years, results in a monograph containing minute
descriptions of organs, of cells, and of intra-cellular
structures, the whole represented and defined
in words and pictures. Now, these descriptions
and drawings are the display of the various sen-
sations which the zoologist has experienced in the
course of his labours ; to these sensations are
added the very numerous interpretations derived
from the memory, reasoning, and often, also, from
the imagination on the part of the scholar, the
last a source at once of errors and of discoveries.
But everything properly experimental in the work
of the zoologist proceeds from the sensations he
has felt or might have felt, and in the particular
case treated of, these sensations are almost solely
visual.
This observation might be repeated with regard
to all objects of the outer world which enter
into relation with us. Whether the knowledge
of them be of the commonplace or of a scientific
order matters little. Sensation is its limit, and
14 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
all objects are known to us by the sensations they
produce in us, and are known to us solely in this
manner. A landscape is nothing but a cluster of
sensations. The outward form of a body is simply
sensation; and the innermost and most delicate
material structure, the last visible elements of a
cell, for example, are all, in so far as we observe
them with the microscope, nothing but sensation.
This being understood, the question is, why
we have just admitted — with the majority of
authors — that we cannot really know a single
object as it is in itself, and in its own nature,
otherwise than by the intermediary of the sensa-
tions it provokes in us ? This comes back to saying
that we here require explanations on the two
following points: why do we admit that we do
not really perceive the objects, but only some-
thing intermediate between them and us; and
why do we call this something intermediate a
sensation ? On this second point I will offer, for
the time being, one simple remark: we use the
term sensation for lack of any other to express
the intermediate character of our perception of
objects, and this use does not, on our part, imply
any hypothesis. Especially do we leave com-
pletely in suspense the question whether sensa-
tion, is a material phenomenon or a state of
being of the mind. These are questions we will
deal with later. For the present it must be
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 15
understood that the word sensation is simply
a term for the something intermediate between
the object and our faculty of cognition. 1 We
have, therefore, simply to state why we have
admitted that the external perception of objects
is produced mediately or by procuration.
There are a few philosophers, and those not of
the lowest rank, who have thought that this
intermediate character of all perception was so
evident that there was no need to insist further
upon it. John Stuart Mill, who was certainly and
perhaps more than anything a careful logician,
commences an exposition of the idealist thesis to
which he was so much attached, by carelessly
saying: "It goes without saying that objects are
known to us through the intermediary of our
senses. . . . The senses are equivalent to our
sensations ; " 2 and on those propositions ho roars
his whole system. " It goes without saying ..."
is a trifle thoughtless. I certainly think he was
wrong in not testing more carefully the solidity of
his starting point.
In the first place, this limit set to our knowledge
of the objects which stimulate our sensations is
only accepted without difficulty by well-informed
1 Connautance. — The word cognition is used throughout as
the English equivalent of this, except in places where the con-
text shows that it means acquaintance merely. — Ed.
2 J. S. MILL, An Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton' 's Philosophy,
pp. 5 and 6. London. 1865.
i6 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
persons; it much astonishes the uninstructed
when first explained to them. And this astonish-
ment, although it may seem so, is not a point that
can be neglected, for it proves that, in the first
and simple state of our knowledge, we believe
we directly perceive objects as they are. Now,
if we, the cultured class, have, for the most part, 1
abandoned this primitive belief, we have only
done so on certain implicit conditions, of which
we must take cognisance. This is what I shall
now demonstrate as clearly as I can.
Take the case of an unlearned person. To prove
to him that he knows sensations alone and not
the bodies which excite them, a very striking
argument may be employed which requires no
subtle reasoning and which appeals to his ob-
servation. This is to inform him, supposing he
is not aware of the fact, that, every time he has
the perception of an exterior object, there is some-
thing interposed between the object and himself,
and that that something is his nervous system.
If we were not acquainted with the existence of
our nervous system, we should unhesitatingly admit
that our perception of objects consisted in some
sort of motion towards the places in which they
were fixed. Now, a number of experiments prove
to us that objects are known to us as excitants of
i A few subtle philosophers have returned to it, as I shall
how later in chapter iv.
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 17
our nervous system which only act on this system
by entering into communication, or coming into
contact with, its terminal extremities. They then
produce, in the interior of this system, a peculiar
modification which we are not yet able to define.
It is this modification which follows the course
of the nerves and is carried to the central parts
of the system. The speed of the propagation of
this nerve modification has been ' measured by
certain precise experiments in psychometry; the
journey is made slowly, at the rate of 20 to 30
metres per second, and it is of interest that this
rate of speed lets us know at what moment and,
consequently, by what organic excitement, the
phenomenon of consciousness is produced. This
happens when the cerebral centres are affected ; the
phenomenon of consciousness is therefore posterior
to the fact of the physical excitement.
I believe it has required a long series of accepted
observations for us to have arrived at this idea,
now so natural in appearance, that the modifi-
cations produced within our nervous system
are the only states of which we can have a
direct consciousness; and as experimental de-
monstration is always limited, there can be no
absolute certainty that things never happen other-
wise, that we never go outside ourselves, and that
neither our consciousness nor our nervous influx
can exteriorise itself, shoot beyond our material
B
1 8 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
organs, and travel afar in pursuit of objects in
order to know or to modify them.
Before going further, we must make our
terminology more precise. We have just seen the
necessity of drawing a distinction between the
sensations of which we are conscious and the un-
known cause which produces these sensations by
acting on our nervous systems. This exciting
cause I have several times termed, in order to be
^ understood, the external object. But under the
name of external object are currently designated
groups of sensations, such as those which make
up for us a chair, a tree, an animal, or any kind
of body. I see a dog pass in the street. I call this
dog an external object ; but, as this dog is formed,
for me who am looking at it, of my sensations,
and as these sensations are states of my nervous
centres, it happens that the term external object
has two meanings. Sometimes it designates our
sensations ; at another, the exciting cause of our
sensations. To avoid all confusion we will call
this exciting cause, which is unknown to us, the
X of matter.
It is, however, not entirely unknown, for we at
least know two facts with regard to it. We know,
first, that this X exists, and in the second place,
that its image must not be sought in the sensa-
tions it excites in us. How can we doubt, we say,
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 19
that it exists? The same external observation
proves to us at once that there exists an object
distinct from our nerves, and that our nerves
separate us from it. I insist on this point,
for the reason that some authors, after having
unreservedly admitted that our knowledge is
confined to sensations, have subsequently been
hard put to it to demonstrate the reality of the
excitant distinct from the sensations. 1 ^ Of this we
need no demonstration, and the testimony of our
senses suffices. We have seen the excitant, and
it is like a friend who should pass before us in
disguise so well costumed and made up that we
can attribute to his real self nothing of what we
see of him, but yet we know that it is he.
And, in fact, let us remember what it is that
we have argued upon — viz. on an observation. I
look & my hand, and I see an object approaching
it which gives me a sensation of feeling. I at
first say that this object is an excitant. It is
pointed out to me that I am in error. This
object, which appears to me outside my nervous
system, is composed, I am told, of sensations. Be
it so, I have the right to answer ; but if all that
1 Thus, the perplexity in which John Stuart Mill finds himself
is very curious. Having admitted unreservedly that our know-
ledge is confined to sensations, he is powerless to set up a reality
outside this, and acknowledges that the principle of causality
cannot legitimately be used to prove that our sensations have
a cause which is not a sensation, because this principle cannot
be applied outside the world of phenomena.
20 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
I perceive is sensation, iny nervous system itself
is a sensation ; if it is only that, it is no longer
an intermediary between the excitant and myself,
and it is the fact that we perceive things as they
are. For it to be possible to prove that I perceive,
not the object, but that tertium quid which is
sensation, it has to be admitted that the nervous
system is a reality external to sensation and
that objects which assume, in relation to it, the
rdle of excitants and of which we perceive the
existence, are likewise realities external to sen-
sation.
This is what is demonstrated by abstract reason-
ing, and this reasoning is further supported by
a common -sense argument. The outer world
cannot be summarised in a few nervous systems
suspended like spiders in empty space. The
existence of a nervous system implies that of a
body in which it is lodged. This body must have
complicated organs ; its limbs presuppose the soil
on yrhich the animal rests, its lungs the existence
of oxygen vivifying its blood, its digestive tube,
aliments which it digests and assimilates to its
substance, and so on. We may indeed admit
that this outer world is not, in itself, exactly as
we perceive it ; but we are compelled to recognise
that it exists by the same right as the nervous
system, in order to put it in its proper place.
The second fact of observation is that the
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 21
sensations we feel do not give us the true image
of the material X which produces them. The
modification made in our substance by this force
X does not necessarily resemble in its nature the
nature of that force. This is an assertion opposed
to our natural opinions, and must consequently
be demonstrated. It is generally proved by the
experiments which reveal what is called "the
law of the specific energy of the nerves." This
is an important law in physiology discovered
by Mtlller two centuries ago, and consequences
of a philosophical order are attached to it. The
facts on which this law is based are these. It is
observed that, if the sensory nerves are agitated
by an excitant which remains constant, the sensa-
tions received by the patient differ according to
the nerve affected. Thus, the terminals of an
electric current applied to the ball of the eye
give the sensation of a small luminous spark ; to
the auditory apparatus, the current causes a
crackling sound ; to the hand, the sensation of a
shock; to the tongue, a metallic flavour. Con-
versely, excitants wholly different, but affecting
the same nerve, give similar sensations ; whether
a ray of light is projected into the eye, or the
eyeball be excited by the pressure of a finger;
whether an electric current is directed into the
eye, or, by a surgical operation, the optic nerve
is severed by a bistoury, the effect is always the
22
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
same, in the sense that the patient always receives
a sensation of light. To sum up, in addition to
the natural excitant of our sensory nerves, there
are two which can produce the same sensory
effects, that is to say, the mechanical and the
electrical excitants. Whence it has been concluded
that the peculiar nature of the sensation felt de-
pends much less on the nature of the excitant
producing it than on that of the sensory organ
which collects it, the nerve which propagates it, or
the centre which receives it. It would perhaps
be going a little too far to affirm that the external
object has no kind of resemblance to the sensations
it gives us. It is safer to say that we are ignorant
of the degree in which the two resemble or differ
from each other.
On thinking it over, it will be found that this
contains a very great mystery, for this power of dis-
tinction (specificity) of our nerves is not connected
with any detail observable in their structure. It
is very probably the receiving centres which are
specific. It is owing to them and to their
mechanism that we ought to feel, from the same
excitant, a sensation of sound or one of colour, that
is to say, impressions which appear, when com-
pared, as the most different in the world. Now, so
far as we can make out, the histological structure
of our auditory centre is the same as that of our
visual centre. Both are a collection of cells
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 23
diverse in form, multipolar, and maintained by a
conjunctive pellicule (stroma). The structure of
the fibres and cells varies slightly in the motor
and sensory regions, but no means have yet been
discovered of perceiving a settled difference be-
tween the nerve-cells of the optic centre and those
of the auditory centre. There should be a differ-
ence, as our mind demands it ; but our eye fails to
note it.
Let us suppose, however, that to-morrow, or
several centuries hence, an improved technique
should show us a material difference between the
visual and the auditory neurone. There is no
absurdity in this supposition ; it is a possible dis-
covery, since it is of the order of material facts.
Such a discovery, however, would lead us very far,
for what terribly complicates this problem is that
we cannot directly know the structure of our
nervous system. Though close to us, though, so
to speak, inside us, it is not known to us other-
wise than is the object we hold in our hands, the
ground we tread, or the landscape which forms
our horizon.
For us it is but a sensation, a real sensation
when we observe it in the dissection of an animal,
or the autopsy of one of our own kind ; an ima-
ginary and transposed sensation, when we are
studying anatomy by means of an anatomical
chart; but still a sensation. It is by the inter-
24 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
mediary of our nervous system that we have to per-
ceive and imagine what a nervous system is like ;
consequently we are ignorant as to the modificar-
tion impressed on our perceptions and imaginations
by this intermediary, the nature of which we are
unable to grasp.
Therefore, when we attempt to understand
the inmost nature of the outer world, we stand
before it as before absolute darkness. There
probably exists in nature, outside of ourselves,
neither colour, odour, force, resistance, space, nor
anything that we know as sensation. Light is pro-
duced by the excitement of the optic nerve, and
it shines only in our brain ; as to the excitement
itself, there is nothing to prove that it is luminous;
outside of us is profound darkness, or even worse,
since darkness is the correlation of light. In
the same way, all the sonorous excitements which
assail us, the creakings of machines, the sounds
of nature, the words and cries of our fellows are
produced by excitements of our acoustic nerve;
it is in our brain that noise is produced, outside
there reigns a dead silence. The same may be
said of all our other senses.
Not one of our senses, absolutely none, is the
revealer of external reality. From this point of
view there is no higher and no lower sense.
The sensations of sight, apparently so objective
and so searching, no more take us out of our-
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS 25
selves than do the sensations of taste which are
localised in the tongue.
In short, our nervous system, which enables
us to communicate with objects, prevents us, on
the other hand, from knowing their nature. It
is an organ of relation with the outer world; it
is also, for us, a cause of isolation. We never
go outside ourselves. We are walled in. And
all we can say of matter and of the outer
world is, that it is revealed to us solely by the
sensations it affords us, that it is the unknown
cause of our sensations, the inaccessible excitant
of our organs of the senses, and that the ideas we
are able to form as to the nature and the pro-
perties of that excitant, are necessarily derived
from our sensations, and are subjective to the
same degree as those sensations themselves.
But we must make haste to add that this
point of view is the one which is reached when
we regard the relations of sensation with its un-
known cause the great X of matter. 1 Positive
science and practical life do not take for an
objective this relation of sensation with the
Unknowable; they leave this to metaphysics.
They distribute themselves over the study of
sensation and examine the reciprocal relations
of sensations with sensations. These last, con-
demned as misleading appearances when we seek
1 See p. 18, sup. — Ed.
26 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
in thein the expression of the Unknowable,
lose this illusory character when we consider
them in their reciprocal relations. Then they
constitute for us reality, the whole of reality
and the only object of human knowledge. The
world is but an assembly of present, past, and
possible sensations; the affair of science is to
analyse and co-ordinate them by separating their
accidental from their constant relations.
CHAPTER III
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER ARE
ONLY SYMBOLS
If we keep firmly in mind the preceding con-
clusion — a conclusion which is neither exclu-
sively my own, nor very new — we shall find a
certain satisfaction in watching the discussions
of physicists on the essence of matter, on the
nature of force and of energy, and on the rela-
tions of ponderable and unponderable matter.
We all know how hot is the fight raging on
this question. At the present time it is in-
creasing in intensity, in consequence of the
disturbance imported into existing theories by
the new discoveries of radio-activity. 1 We psy-
chologists can look on very calmly at these dis-
cussions, with that selfish pleasure we unavowedly
feel when we see people fighting while ourselves
safe from knocks. We have, in fact, the feeling
that, come what may from the discussions on
the essence of matter, there can be no going
1 I would draw attention to a recent volume by Gustave Ls
Bon, 'on V Evolution de la Mattire, a work full of original and
bold ideas.
28 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
beyond the truth that matter is an excitant of
our nervous system, and is only known in con-
nection with the perception we have of this
last.
If we open a work on physics or physiology we
shall note with astonishment how the above con-
siderations are misunderstood. Observers of
nature who seek, and rightly, to give the maxi-
mum of exactness to their observations, show
that they are obsessed by one constant prejudice :
they mistrust sensation.
A great part of their efforts consists, by what
they say, in reducing the role of sensation to
its fitting part in science; and the invention of
mechanical aids to observation is constantly held
up as a means of remedying the inperfection of
our senses. In physics the thermometer replaces
the sensation of heat that our skin — our hand, for
example — experiences by the measurable elevation
of a column of mercury, and the scale-pan of a
precise balance takes the place of the vague sensa-
tion of trifling weights ; in physiology a registering
apparatus replaces the sensation of the pulse
which the doctor feels with the end of his fore-
finger by a line on paper traced with indelible
ink, of which the duration and the intensity, as
well as the varied combinations of these two
elements, can be measured line by line.
Learned men who pride themselves on their
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 29
philosophical attainments vaunt in very eloquent
words the superiority of the physical instrument
over mere sensation. Evidently, however, the
earnestness of this eulogy leads them astray. The
most perfect registering apparatus must, in tho
long-run, after its most scientific operations,
address itself to our senses and produce in us
some small sensation. The reading of the height
reached by the column of mercury in a ther-
mometer when heated is accomplished by a
visual sensation, and it is by the sight that the
movements of the balance are controlled, and that
the traces of the sphygmograph are analysed.
We may readily admit to physicists and physiolo-
gists all the advantages of these apparatus. Thi3
is not the question. It simply proves that there
are sensations and sensations, and that certain
of these are better and more precise than others.
The visual sensation of relation in space seems
to be par excellence tho scientific sensation
which it is sought to substitute for all the rest.
But, after all, it is but a sensation. ^
Let us recognise that there is, in all this con-
tempt on the part of physicists for sensation, only
differences in language, and that a paraphrase
would suffice to correct them without leaving
any trace. Be it so. But something graver
remains. When one is convinced that our
knowledge of the outer world is limited to
30 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
sensations, we can no longer understand how it
is possible to give oneself up, as physicists do,
to speculations upon the constitution of matter.
Up to the present there have been three prin-
cipal ways of explaining the physical phenomena
of the universe. The first, the most abstract,
and the furthest from reality, is above all verbal.
It consists in the use of formulas in which the
quality of the phenomena is replaced by their
magnitude, in which this magnitude, ascertained
by the most precise processes of measurement,
becomes the object of abstract reasoning which
allows its modifications to be foreseen under
given experimental conditions. This is pure
mathematics, a formal science depending upon
logic. Another conception, less restricted than
the above, and of fairly recent date, consists in
treating all manifestations of nature as forms of
energy. This term "energy" has a very vague
content. At the most it expresses but two
things: first, it is based on a faint recollection
of muscular force, and it reminds one dimly of the
sensation experienced when clenching the fists;
and, secondly, it betrays a kind of very natural
respect for the forces of nature which, in all the
images man has made of them, constantly appear
superior to his own. We may say "the energy
of nature;" but we should never say, what
would be experimentally correct^" the weakness
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 31
of natura" The word " weakness " we reserve for
ourselves. Apart from these undecided sugges-
tions, the term energy is quite the proper term
to designate phenomena, the intimate nature of
which we do not seek to penetrate, but of which
we only wish to ascertain the laws and measure
the degrees.
A third conception, more imaginative and
bolder than the others, is the mechanical or
kinetic theory. This last absolutely desires that
we should represent to ourselves, that wo should
imagine, how phenomena really take place ; and in
seeking for the property of nature the most clearly
perceived, the easiest to define and analyse, and
the most apt to lend itself to measurement and
calculation, it has chosen motion. Consequently
all the properties of matter have been reduced to
this one, and in spite of the apparent contradic-
tion of our senses, it has been supposed that the
most varied phenomena are produced, in the last
resort, by the displacement of material particles.
Thus, sound, light, heat, electricity, and even the
nervous influx would be due to vibratory move-
ments, varying only by their direction and their
periods, and all nature is thus explained as a
problem of animated geometry. This last theory,
which has proved very fertile in explanations of
the most delicate phenomena of sound and light,
has so strongly* impressed many minds that it
32 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
has led them to declare that the explanation of
phenomena by the laws of mechanics alone has
the character of a scientific explanation. Even
recently, it seemed heresy to combat these ideas.
Still more recently, however, a revulsion of
opinion has taken place. Against the physicists,
the mathematicians in particular have risen up,
and taking their stand on science, have demon-
strated that all the mechanisms invented have
crowds of defects. First, in each particular case,
there is such a complication that that which is
defined is much more simple than the definition ;
then there is such a waQt of unity that quite
special mechanisms adapted to each phenomenal
detail have to be imagined; and, lastly — most
serious argument of all — so much comprehen-
siveness and suppleness is employed, that no
experimental law is found which cannot be under-
stood mechanically, and no fact of observation
which shows an error in the mechanical explana-
tion — a sure proof that this mode of explanation
has no meaning.
My way of combating the mechanical theory
starts from a totally different point of view.
Psychology has every right to say a few words
here, as upon the value of every kind of scientific
theory; for it is acquainted with the nature of
the mental needs of which these theories are the
expression and which these theories seek to satisfy.
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 33
It has not yet been sufficiently noticed that
psychology does not allow itself to be confined,
like physics or sociology, within the logical table
of human knowledge, for it has, by a unique
privilege, a right of supervision over the other
sciences. We shall see that the psychological dis-
cussion of mechanics has a wider range than that
of the mathematicians.
Since our cognition cannot go beyond sensa-
tion, shall we first recall what meaning can be
given to an explanation of the inmost nature of
matter ? It can only be an artifice, a symbol, or
a process convenient for classification in order to
combine the very different qualities of things in
one unifying synthesis — a process having nearly
the same theoretical value as a memoria technica,
which, by substituting letters for figures, ' helps
us to retain the latter in our minds. This does
not mean that figures are, in fact, letters, but it
is a conventional substitution which has a prac-
tical advantage. What memoria technica is to the
ordinary memory, the theory of mechanics should
be for our needed unification.
Unfortunately, this is not so. The excuse we are
trying to make for the mechanicians is illusory.
There is no mistaking their ambition. Notwith-
standing the prudence of some and the equivoca-
tions in which others have rejoiced, they have
drawn their definition in the absolute and not in
c
34 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
the relative. To take their conceptions literally,
they have thought the movement of matter to be
something existing outside our eye, our hands,
and our sense ; in a word, something noumenal, as
Eant would have said. The proof that this is
their real idea, is that movement is presented to
us as the true outer and explanatory cause of our
sensations, the external excitement to our nerves.
The most elementary works on physics are im-
pregnated with this disconcerting conception. If
we open a description of acoustics, we read that
sound and noise are subjective states which have
no reality outside our auditory apparatus; that
they are sensations produced by an external cause,
which is the vibratory movement of sonorous
bodies — whence the conclusion that this
vibratory movement is not itself a sensation.
Or, shall we take another proof, still more con-
vincing. This is the vibratory and silent move-
ment which is invoked by physicists to explain
the peculiarities of subjective sensation; so that
the interferences, the pulsations of sound, and, in
fine, the whole physiology of the ear, is treated
as a problem in kinematics, and is explained
by the composition of movements.
What kind of reality do physicists then allow
to the displacements of matter ? Where do they
place them, since they recognise otherwise that
the essence of matter is unknown to us ? Are we
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 35
to suppose that, outside the world of noumena,
outside the world of phenomena and sensations,
there exists a third world, an intermediary be-
tween the two former, the world of atoms and
that of mechanics?
A short examination will, moreover, suffice to
show of what this mechanical model is formed
which is presented to us as constituting the
essence of matter. This can be nothing else
than the sensations, since we are incapable of
perceiving or imagining anything else. It is the
sensations of sight, of touch, and even of the
muscular sense. Motion is a fact seen by the eye,
felt by the hand; it enters into us by the perception
we have of the solid masses visible to the naked
eye which exist in our field of observation, of their
movements and their equilibrium and the displace-
ment we ourselves effect with our bodies. Here is
the sensory origin, very humble and very gross, of
all the mechanics of the atoms. Here is the stuff
of which our lofty conception is formed. Our
mind can, it is true, by a work of purification,
strip movement of most of its concrete qualities,
separate it even from the perception of the object
in motion, and make of it a something or other
ideal and diagrammatic; but there will still
remain a residuum of visual, tactile, and muscular
sensations, and consequently it is still nothing else
than a subjective state, bound to the structure of
36 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
our organs. We are, for the rest, so wrapped up
in sensations that none of our boldest conceptions
can break through the circle.
But it is not the notion of movement alone
which proceeds from sensation. There is also
that of exteriority, of space, of position, and, by
opposition, that of external or psychological events.
Without declaring it to be certain, I will remind
you that it is infinitely probable that these notions
are derived from our muscular experience. Free
motion, arrested motion, the effort, the speed, and
the direction of motion, such are the sensorial
elements, which, in all probability, constitute the
foundation of our ideas on space and its properties.
And these are so many subjective notions which
we have no right to treat as objects belonging to
the outer world.
What is more remarkable, also, is that even the
ideas of object, of body, and of matter, are derived
from visual and tactile sensations which have been
illegitimately set up as entities. We have come,
in fact, to consider matter as a being separate from
sensations, superior to our sensations, distinct from
the properties which enable us to know it, and
binding together these properties, as it were, in a
sheaf. Here again is a conception at the base of
visualisation and muscularisation ; it consists in
referring to the visual and other sensations, raised
for the occasion to the dignity of external and per-
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 37
manent causes, the other sensations which are con-
sidered as the effects of the first named upon our
organs of sense.
It demands a great effort to clear our minds
of these familiar conceptions which, it is plain*
are nothing but naive realism. Tes ! the
mechanical conception of the universe is no-
thing but naive realism.
To recapitulate our idea, and, to make it more
plain by an illustration, here is a tuning-fork on
the table before me. With a vigorous stroke of the
bow I set it vibrating. The two prongs separate,
oscillate rapidly, and a sound of a certain tone
is heard. I connect this tuning-fork, by means
of electric wires, with a D6prez recording ap-
paratus which records the vibrations on the
blackened surface of a revolving cylinder, and
we can thus, by an examination of the trace made
under our eyes, ascertain all the details of the
movement which animates it. We see, parallel
to each other, two different orders of phenomena ;
the visual phenomena which show us that the
tuning-fork is vibrating, and the auditory phe-
nomena which convey to us the fact that it is
making a sound.
The physicist, asked for an explanation of all
this, will answer: "It is the vibration of the
tuning-fork which, transmitted by the air, is
carried to our auditory apparatus, causes a vibra-
38 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
tion in the tympanum, the movements of which
are communicated to the small bones of the
middle ear, thence (abridging details) to the ter-
minations of the auditory nerve, and so produces
in us the subjective sensation of sound." Well, in
so saying, the physicist commits an error of in-
terpretation ; outside our ears there exists some-
thing we do not know which excites them; this
something cannot be the vibratory movement of
the tuning-fork, for this vibratory movement
which we can see is likewise a subjective sensa-
tion; it no more exists outside our sight than
sound exists outside our ears. In any case, it is
as absurd to explain a sensation of sound by one
of sight, as a sensation of sight by one of sound. >
One would be neither further from nor nearer
to the truth if we answered that physicist as
follows: "You give the preponderance to your
eye ; I myself give it to my ear. This tuning-fork
appears to you to vibrate. Wrong! This is how the
thing occurs. This tuning-fork produces a sound
which, by exciting our retina, gives us a sense of
movement. This visual sensation of vibration is
a purely subjective one, the external cause of the
phenomenon is the sound. The outer world is
a concert of sounds which rises in the immensity
of space. Matter is noise and nothingness is
silenca"
This theory of the above experiment is not
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 39
absurd; but, as a matter of fact, it is probable
that no one would or could accept it, except
verbally for amusement, as a challenge, or for the
pleasure of talking metaphysics. The reason is
that all our evolution, for causes which would take
too long to detail, has established the hegemony of
certain of our senses over the others. We have,
above all, become visual and manual beings. It is
the eye and the hand which give us the per-
ceptions of the outer world of which we almost
exclusively make use in our sciences ; and we are
now almost incapable of representing to ourselves
the foundation of phenomena otherwise than by
means of these organs. Thus all the preceding
experiment from the stroke of the bow to the final
noise presents itself to us in visual terms, and
further, these terms are not confined to a series
of detached sensations.
Visual sensation combines with the tactile and
muscular sensations, and forms sensorial con-
structions which succeed each other, continue, and
arrange themselves logically : in lieu of sensations,
there are objects and relations of space between
these objects, and the actions which connect them,
and the phenomena which pass from one to the
other. All that is only sensation, if you will ; but
merely as the agglutinated molecules of cement
and of stone are a palace.
Thus the whole series of visual events which
40 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
compose our experiment with the timing-fork
can be coherently explained. One understands
that it is the movement of my hand equipped
with the bow which is communicated to the
tuning-fork. One understands that this move-
ment passing into the fork has changed its form
and rhythm, that the waves produced by the
fork transmit themselves, by the oscillations of
the air-molecules, to our tympanum, and so on.
There is in all this series of experiments an
admirable continuity which fully satisfies our
minds. However much we might be convinced
by the theoretical reasons given above, that we
have quite as much right to represent the same
series of events in an auditory form, we should
be incapable of realising that form to ourselves.
What would be the structure of the ear to any
one who only knew it through the sense of hear-
ing ? What would become of the tympanum, the
small bones, the cochlea, and the terminations
of the acoustic nerve, if it were only permitted
to represent them in the language of sound ?
It is very difficult to imagine.
Since, however, we are theorising, let us not be
stopped by a few difficulties of comprehension.
Perhaps a little training might enable us to over-
come them. Perhaps musicians, who discern as
much reality in what one hears as in what one
sees, would be more apt than other folk to under-
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 41
stand the necessary transposition. Some of them,
in their autobiographies, have made, by the way,
very suggestive remarks on the importance they
attribute to sound; and, moreover, the musical
world, with its notes, its intervals, and its orches-
tration, lives and develops in a manner totally
independent of vibration.
Perhaps we can here quote one or two examples
which may give us a lead. To measure the
length of a body instead of applying to it a yard-
wand, one might listen to its sound; for the
pitch of the sound given by two cords allows us
to deduce their difference of length, and even the
absolute length of each. The chemical composi-
tion of a body might be noted by its electric
resistance and the latter verified by the telephone ;
that is to say, by the ear. Or, to take a more
subtle example. We might make calculations with
sounds of which we have studied the harmonic
relations as we do nowadays with figures. A
sum in rule of three might even be solved
sonorously; for, given three sounds, the ear can
find a fourth which should have the same rela-
tion to the third as the second to the first. Every
musical ear performs this operation easily; now,
this fourth sound, what else is it but the fourth
term in a rule of three ? And by taking into con-
sideration the number of its vibrations a numeri-
cal solution would be found to the problem. This
42 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
novel form of calculating machine might serve
to fix the price of woollen stuffs, to calculate
brokerages and percentages, and the solution would
be obtained without the aid of figures, without
calculation, without visualisation, and by the ear
alone.
By following up this idea, also, we might go
a little further. We might arrive at the con-
viction that our present science is human, petty,
and contingent ; that it is closely linked with the
structure of our sensory organs ; that this struc-
ture results from the evolution which fashioned
these organs; that this evolution has been an
accident of history ; that in the future it may be
different ; and that, consequently, by the side or
in the stead of our modern science, the work of
our eyes and hands — and also of our words — there
might have been constituted, there may still be
constituted, sciences entirely and extraordinarily
new — auditory, olfactory, and gustatory sciences,
and even others derived from other kinds of
sensations which we can neither foresee nor con-
ceive because they are not, for the moment,
differentiated in us. Outside the matter we know,
a very special matter fashioned of vision and
touch, there may exist other matter with totally
different properties.
But let us bring our dream to an end. The
interest of our discussion does not lie in the
THE MECHANICAL THEORIES OF MATTER 43
hypothetical substitution of hearing or any other
sense for sight. It lies in the complete suppres-
sion of all explanation of the noumenal object
in terms borrowed from the language of sensation.
And that is our last word. We must, by setting
aside the mechanical theory, free ourselves from
a too narrow conception of the constitution of
matter. And this liberation will be to us a great
advantage which we shall soon reap. We shall
avoid the error of believing that mechanics is the
only real thing and that all that cannot be ex-
plained by mechanics must be incomprehensible.
We shall then gain more liberty of mind for
understanding what the union of the soul with
the body 1 may be.
1 See note on p. 3. — Ed.
1
CHAPTER IV
ANSWERS TO SOME OBJECTIONS, AND SUMMARY
I have set forth the foregoing ideas by taking
the road which to me seemed the best. On re-
flection it has occurred to me that my manner
of exposition and demonstration may be criticised
much more than my conclusion. Now, as it is
the conclusion alone which here is of importance,
it is expedient not to make it responsible for the
arguments by which I have supported it.
These arguments resolve themselves into the
attestation that between objects and our con-
sciousness there exists an intermediary, our
nervous system. We have even established that
the existence of this intermediary is directly
proved by observation, and from this I have
concluded that we do not directly perceive the
object itself but a tertium quid, which is our
sensations.
Several objections to this might be made.
Let us enumerate them.
i. It is not inconceivable that objects may act
directly on our consciousness without taking the
intermediary of our nervous system. Some authors,
44
ANSWERS TO SOME OBJECTIONS 45
the spiritualists notably, believe in the possibility
of disembodied souls, and they admit by implica-
tion that these souls remain in communication
with the terrestrial world, witness our actions, and
hear our speech. Since they no longer have
organs of sense, we must suppose that these
wandering souls, if they exist, can directly per-
ceive material objects. It is evident that such
hypotheses have, up till now , nothing scientific in
them, and that the demonstrations of them which
are given raise a feeling of scepticism more than
anything else. Nevertheless, we have not the
right to exclude, by a priori argument, the possi-
bility of this category of phenomena.
2. Several German authors have maintained
in recent years, that if the nervous system
intervenes in the perception of external objects,
it is a faithful intermediary which should not
work any change on those physical actions which
it gathers from outside to transmit to our con-
sciousness. From this point of view colour would
exist as colour, outside our eyes, sound would
exist as sound, and in a general way there would
not be, in matter, any mysterious property left,
since we should perceive matter as it is. This is
a very unexpected interpretation, by which men
of science have come to acknowledge the correct-
ness of the common belief; they rehabilitate an
opinion which philosophers have till now turned
46 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
to ridicule, under the name of naive realism. All
which proves that the naivete of some may be the
excessive refinement of others.
To establish scientifically this opinion they
batter down the theory of the specific energy of
the nerves. I have recalled in a previous page 1
of what this theory consists. I have shown that
if, by mechanical or electrical means, our different
sensory nerves are excited, notwithstanding the
identity of the excitant, a different sensation is
provoked in each case — light when the optic nerve
is stimulated, sound when the acoustic, and so
on. It is now answered to this argument based
on fact that the nature of these excitants must
be complex. It is not impossible, it is thought,
that the electric force contains within itself both
luminous and sonorous actions ; it is not impossible
that a mechanical excitement should change the
electric state of the nerve affected, and that, con-
sequently, these subsidiary effects explain how one
and the same agent may, according to the nerves
employed, produce different effects.
3. After the spiritualists and the experimen-
talists, let us take the metaphysicians. Among
them one has always met with the most varying
specimens of opinions and with arguments for
and against all possible theories.
Thus it is, for example, with the external percep-
1 See p. 22, sup.— Ed.
ANSWERS TO SOME OBJECTIONS 47
tion. Some have supposed it indirect, others, on
the contrary, that it acts directly on the object.
Those who uphold the direct theory are inspired
by Berkeley, who asserts that the sensitive quali-
ties of the body have no existence but in our own
minds, and consist really in representative ideas.
This doctrine is expressly based on this argument
— that thought differs too much in nature from
matter for one to be able to suppose any link
between these two substances. In this particular,
some authors often make an assertion without en-
deavouring to prove it. They are satisfied with
attesting, or even with supposing, that mind can
have no consciousness of anything but its own
states. Other philosophers, as I have said,
maintain that " things which have a real exist-
ence are the very things we perceive." It is
Thomas Reid who has upheld, in some passages
of his writings at all events, the theory of instan-
taneous perception, or intuition. It has also been
defended by Hamilton in a more explicit manner. 1
It has been taken up again in recent years, by a
profound and subtle philosopher, M. Bergson, who,
unable to admit that the nervous system is a
substratum of knowledge and serves us as a per-
cipient, takes it to be solely a motor organ, and
urges that the sensory parts of the system — that is
1 See J. S. MILL'S Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philo-
sophy, chap. z. p. 176, et tcq.
48 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
to say, the centripetal, optic, acoustic, &c, nerves
— do not call forth, when excited, any kind of
sensation, their sole purpose being to convey dis-
turbances from periphery to periphery, or, say,
from external objects to the muscles of the body.
This hypothesis, surely a little difficult to com-
prehend, places, if I mistake not, the mind, as a
power of perception and representation, within the
interval comprised between the external object
and the body, so that the mind is in direct contact
with external objects and knows them as they are.
It will bo noticed that these three interpreta-
tions, the spiritualistic, the experimental, and the
metaphysical, are in formal opposition with that
which I have set forth earlier in these pages.
They deny the supposition that the nervous system
serves us as an intermediary with nature, and that
it transforms nature before bringing it to our
consciousness. And it might seem that by con-
tradicting my fundamental proposition, these three
new hypotheses must lead to a totally different
conclusion.
Now, this is not so at all. The conclusion I
have enunciated remains entirely sound, notwith-
standing this change in the starting point, and
for the following reason. It is easy to see that
we cannot represent to ourselves the inner struc-
ture of matter by using all our sensations without
distinction, because it is impossible to bring all
ANSWERS TO SOME OBJECTIONS 49
•
these sensations within one single and identical
synthetic construction : for this they are too dis-
similar. Thus, we should try in vain to unite in
any kind of scheme a movement of molecules and
an odour; these elements are so heterogeneous
that there is no way of joining them together and
combining them.
The physicists have more or less consciously
perceived this, and, not being able to overcome
by a frontal attack the difficulty created by the
heterogeneity of our sensations, they have turned
its flank. The ingenious artifice they have de-
vised consists in retaining only some of these
sensations, and in rejecting the remainder; the
first being considered as really representing the
essence of matter, and the latter as the effects of
the former on our organs of sense ; the first being
reputed to be true, we may say, and the second
being reputed false — that is subjective, that is
not representing the X of matter. 1 I have refuted
this argument by showing that all our sensations
without exception are subjective and equally false
in regard to the X of matter, and that no one of
them, consequently, has any claim to explain the
others.
Now, by a new interpretation, we are taught
that all sensations are equally true, and that all
faithfully represent the great X. If they be all
1 See p. 18, *up. — Ed.
50 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
equally true, it is absolutely the same as if they
were all false; no one sensation can have any
privilege over the others, none can be truer than
the others, none can be capable of explaining
the others, none can usurp to itself the sole
right of representing the essence of matter; and
we thus find ourselves, in this case, as in the
preceding, in presence of the insurmountable
difficulty of creating a synthesis with hetero-
geneous elements.
All that has been said above is summed up in
the following points : —
1. Of the external world, we only know our
sensations. All the physical properties of matter
resolve themselves for us into sensations, present,
past, or possible. We may not say that it is by
the intermediary, by the means of sensation, that
we know these properties, for that would mean
that the properties are distinct from the sensa-
tions. Objects are to us in reality only aggregates
of sensations.
2. The sensations belong to the different organs
of the senses — sight, hearing, touch, the muscular
sense, &c. Whatever be the sense affected, one
sensation has the same rights as the others,
from the point of view of the cognition of exter-
nal objects. It is impossible to distinguish them
into subjective and objective, by giving to this
distinction the meaning that certain sensations
ANSWERS TO SOME OBJECTIONS 51
represent objects as they are, while certain others
simply represent our manner of feeling. This is
an illegitimate distinction, since all sensations have
the same physiological condition, the excitement
of a sensory nerve, and result from the properties
of this nerve when stimulated.
3. Consequently, if is impossible for us to form
a conception of matter in terms of movement,
and to explain by the modalities of movement
the properties of bodies ; for this theory amounts
to giving to certain sensations, especially those
of the muscular sense, the hegemony over the
others. We cannot explain, we have not the
right to explain, one sensation by another, and
the mechanical theory of matter has simply the
value of a symbol.
BOOK II
THE DEFINITION OF MIND
CHAPTER I
THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN COGNITION 1 AND ITS
OBJECT
After having thus studied matter and reduced it
to sensations, we shall apply the same method of
analysis to mind, and inquire whether mind pos-
sesses any characteristic which allows it to be
distinguished from matter.
Before going any further, let me clear up an
ambiguity. All the first part of this work has
been devoted to the study of what is known to
us in and by sensation; and I have taken upon
myself, without advancing any kind of justifying
reason, to call that which is known to us, by this
method, by the name of matter, thus losing sight
of the fact that matter only exists by contra-
distinction and opposition to mind, and that if
mind did not exist, neither would matter. I have
thus appeared to prejudge the question to be
resolved.
The whole of this terminology must now be
considered as having simply a conventional value,
1 See note on p. 14, tup. — Ed.
35
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
and must be set aside for the present. These are
the precise terms in which this question presents
itself to my mind. A part of the knowable con-
sists in sensations. We must, therefore, without
troubling to style this aggregate of sensations
matter rather than mind, make an analysis of
the phenomena known by the name of mind, and
see whether they differ from the preceding ones.
Let us, therefore, make an inventory of mind.
By the process of enumeration, we find quoted as
psychological phenomena, the sensations, the per-
ceptions, the ideas, the recollections, the reason-
ings, the emotions, the desires, the imaginations, and
the acts of attention and of wilL These appear to
be, at the first glance, the elements of mind ; but,
on reflection, one perceives that these elements
belong to two distinct categories, of which it is
easy to recognise the duality, although, in fact
and in reality, these two elements are constantly
combined. The first of these elements may re-
ceive the generic name of objects of cognition,
or objects known, and the second that of acts of
cognition.
Here are a few examples of concrete facts,
which only require a rapid analysis to make their
double nature plain. In a sensation which we feel
are two things: a particular state, or an object
which one knows, and the act of knowing it, of
feeling it, of taking cognisance of it; in other
COGNITION AND ITS OBJECT 57
words, every sensation comprises an impression
and a cognition. In a recollection there is, in
like manner, a certain image of the past and
the fact consisting in the taking cognisance of
this image. It is, in other terms, the distinc-
tion between the intelligence and the object.
Similarly, all reasoning has an object; there
must be matter on which to reason, whether
this matter be supplied by the facts or the
ideas. Again, a desire, a volition, an act of
reflection, has need of a point of applicatioa
One does not will in the air, one wills some-
thing; one does not reflect in the void, one
reflects over a fact or over some difficulty.
We may then provisionally distinguish in an
inventory of the mind a something which is
perceived, understood, desired, or willed, and,
beyond that, the fact of perceiving, of under-
standing, or desiring, or of willing.
To illustrate this distinction by an example,
I shall say that an analogous separation can be
effected in an act of vision, by showing that the
act of vision, which is a concrete operation,
comprises two distinct elements: the object
seen and the eye which sees. But this is, of
course, only a rough comparison, of which we
shall soon see the imperfections when we are
further advanced in the study of the question.
To this activity which exists and manifests
58 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
itself in the facts of feeling, perceiving, &c, we
can give a name in order to identify and re-
cognise it: we will call it the consciousness 1
(la conscience), and we will call object every-
thing which is not the act of consciousness.
After this preliminary distinction, to which we
shall often refer, we will go over the principal
manifestations of the mind, and we will first study
the objects of cognition, reserving for another
chapter the study of the acts of cognition — that is
to say, of consciousness. We will thus examine
successively sensation, idea, emotion, and will.
It has been often maintained that the peculiar
property of mind is to perceive sensations. It
has also been said that thought — that is, the
property of representing to one's self that which
does not exist — distinguishes mind from matter.
Lastly, it has not failed to be affirmed that one
thing which the mind brings into the material
1 The word " contcienoe " is one of those which has been
used in the greatest number of different meanings. Let it be,
at least, understood that I nse it here in an intellectual and not
a moral sense. I do not attach to the conscience the idea of a
moral approbation or disapprobation, of a duty, of a remorse.
The best example to illustrate conscience has, perhaps, been
formed by Ladd. It is the contrast between a person awake
and sleeping a dreamless sleep. The first has consciousness of
a number of things ; the latter has consciousness of nothing.
Let me now add that we distinguish from consciousness that
multitude of things of which one has consciousness of. Of
these we make the object of consciousness. [Conteience has
throughout been rendered " consciousness. " — Ed.]
COGNITION AND ITS OBJECT 59
world is its power of emotion; and moralists,
choosing somewhat arbitrarily among certain
emotions, have said that the mind is the creator
of goodness. We will endeavour to analyse these
different affirmations.
CHAPTER II
DEFINITION OF SENSATION
When making the analysis of matter we im-
pliedly admitted two propositions: first, that
sensation is the tertium quid which is inter-
posed between the excitant of our sensory nerves
and ourselves; secondly, that the aggregate of
our sensations is all we can know of the
outer world, so that it is correct to define this
last as the collection of our present, past, and
possible sensations. It is not claimed that the
outer world is nothing else than this, but it is
claimed with good reason that the outer world
is nothing else to vs.
It would be possible to draw from the above
considerations a clear definition of sensation, and
especially it would be possible to decide hence-
forth from the foregoing whether sensation is a
physical or a mental phenomenon, and whether
it belongs to matter or to mind. This is the
important point, the one which we now state,
and which we will endeavour to resolve. To
make the question clearer, we will begin it afresh,
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 61
as if it were new, and as if the facts hitherto
analysed did not already prejudge the solution.
Let us begin by giving a definition of sensation
from the point of view of experimental psychology.
Sensation, then, is the phenomenon which is
produced and which one experiences when an
excitant has just acted on one of our organs of
sense. This phenomenon is therefore composed
of two parts: an action exercised from outside
by some body or other on our nervous substance ;
and, then, the fact of feeling this action.
This fact of feeling, this state of consciousness,
is necessary to constitute sensation ; when it does
not exist, it is preferable to give the phenome-
non another name, otherwise the fault is com-
mitted of mixing up separate facts. Physiologists
have, on this point, some faults of terminology
with which to reproach themselves ; for they have
employed the word sensibility with too little of
the critical spirit. Sensibility, being capacity for
sensation, presupposes, like sensation itself, con-
sciousness. It has, therefore, been wrong, in
physiology, to speak of the sensibility of the tissues
and organs, which, like the vegetable tissues or
the animal organs of vegetative life, properly
speaking, feel nothing, but react ty rapid or slow
movements to the excitements they are made to
receive. Reaction, by a movement or any kind
of modification, to an excitement, does not consti-
62 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
tute a sensation unless consciousness is joined
with it, and, consequently, it would be wiser to
give unfelt excitements and reactions the name
of excitability.
The clearest examples of sensation are furnished
by the study of man, and are taken from cases
where we perceive an external object. The object
produces upon us an action, and this action is
felt; only, in such cases, the fact of sensation
comprises but a very small part of the event.
It only corresponds, by definition, to the actual
action of the object. Analysis after analysis
has shown that we constantly perceive far be-
yond this actual action of objects. Our mind, as
we say, outruns our senses. To our sensations,
images come to attach themselves which result
from sensations anteriorly felt in analogous cir-
cumstances. These images produce in us an
illusion, and we take them for sensations, so that
we think we perceive something which is but a
remembrance or an idea; the reason being that
our mind cannot remain in action in the presence
of a sensation, but unceasingly labours to throw
light upon it, to sound it, and to arrive at its
meaning, and consequently alters it by adding
to it. This addition is so constant, so unavoid-
able, that the existence of an isolated sensation
which should be perceived without the attachment
of images, without modification or interpretation,
DEFINITION OP SENSATION 63
is well-nigh unrealisable in the consciousness of
an adult. It is a myth.
Let us, however, imagine this isolation to be
possible, and that we have before us a sensation
free from any other element. What is this sensa-
tion ? Does it belong to the domain of physical or
of moral things? Is it a state of matter or of
mind?
I can neither doubt nor dispute that sensation is,
in part, a psychological phenomenon, since I have
admitted, by the very definition I have given of it,
that sensation implies consciousness. We must,
therefore, acknowledge those who define it as a
state of consciousness to be right, but it would be
more correct to call it the consciousness of a state,
and it is with regard to the nature of this state
that the question presents itself. It is only this
state which we will now take into consideration.
It is] understood that sensation contains both an
impression and a cognition. Let us leave till
later the study of the act of cognition, and deal
with the impression. Is this impression now of
a physical or a mental nature? Both the two
opposing opinions have been upheld. In this
there is nothing astonishing, for in metaphysics
one finds the expression of every possible opinion.
But a large, an immense majority of philosophers
has declared in favour of the psychological nature
of the impression. Without even making the
64 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
above distinction between the impression and the
act of cognition, it has been admitted that the
entire sensation, taken en bloc, is a psychological
phenomenon, a modification of our consciousness
and a peculiar state of our minds. Descartes
has even employed this very explicit formula :
"The objects we perceive are within our under-
standing." It is curious to see how little trouble
authors take to demonstrate this opinion; they
declare it to be self-evident, which is a convenient
way of avoiding all proof John Stuart Mill has
no hesitation in affirming that: "The mind, in
perceiving external objects, can only take notice of
its own conditions." And Renouvier expresses the
same arbitrary assertion with greater obscurity
when he writes : " The monad is constituted by this
relation : the connection of the subject with the
object within the subject." 1 In other words, it is
laid down as an uncontrovertible principle that
"the mental can only enter into direct relations
with the mental." That is what may be called
"the principle of Idealism."
This principle seems to me very disputable, and
it is to me an astonishing thing that the most
resolute of sceptics — Hume, for example — should
have accepted it without hesitation. I shall first
enunciate my personal opinion, then make known
1 Or. Renouvibh ct L. Prat, La NoitvdU Monadologic, p. 148.
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 65
another which only differs from mine by a
difference of words, and finally I will discuss
a third opinion, which seems to me radically
wrong.
My personal opinion is that sensation is of a
mixed nature. It is psychical in so far as it implies
an act of consciousness, and physical otherwise.
The impression on which the act of cognition
operates, that impression which is directly pro-
duced by the excitant of the nervous system, seems
to me, without any doubt, to be of an entirely
physical nature. This opinion, which I make mine
own, has only been upheld by very few philosophers
— Thomas Reid perhaps, and William Hamilton for
certain ; but neither has perceived its deep-lying
consequences.
What are the arguments on which I rely ? They
are of different orders, and are arguments of fact
and arguments of logic. I shall first appeal to
the natural conviction of those who have never
ventured into metaphysics. So long as no
endeavour has been made to demonstrate the
contrary to them, they believe, with a natural
and naive belief, that matter is that which is seen,
touched and felt, and that, consequently, matter
and our senses are confounded. They would be
greatly astonished to be informed that when we
appear to perceive the outer world, we simply per-
ceive our ideas ; that when we take the train for
E
66
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Lyons we enter into one state of consciousness in
order to attain another state of consciousness.
Now, the adherents of this natural and naive
opinion have, as they say in the law, the right of
possession (possession cCitat) ; they are not plain-
tiffs but defendants; it is not for them to prove
they are in the right, it has to be proved against
them that they are in the wrong. Until this
proof is forthcoming they have a presumption in
their favour.
Are we here making use of the argument of
common opinion of mankind, of which ancient
philosophy made so evident an abuse ? Tes, and
no. Yes, for we here adopt the general opinion.
No, for we only adopt it till the contrary be proved.
But who can exhibit this proof to the contrary?
On a close examination of the question, it will be
perceived that sensation, taken as an object of cog-
nition, becomes confused with the properties of
physical nature, and is identified with them, both
by its mode of apparition and by its content. By
its mode of apparition, sensation holds itself out
as independent of us, for it is at every instant an
unexpected revelation, a source of frosh cogni-
tions, and it offers a development which takes
place without and in spite of our will ; while its
laws of co-existence and of succession declare to
us the order and march of the material universe.
Besides, by its content, sensation is confounded
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 67
with matter. When a philosopher seeks to repre-
sent to himself the properties of a material object,
—of a brain, for example — in order to contrast
them with the properties of a psychical activity, it
is the properties of sensation that he describes as
material ; and, in fact, it is by sensation, and sensa-
tion alone, that we know these properties. Sensa-
tion is so little distinct from them that it is an error
to consider it as a means, a process, an instrument
for the knowledge of matter. All that we know
of matter is not known in or by sensation, but
constitutes sensation itself; it is not by the aid of
sensation that we know colour ; colour is a sensa-
tion, and the same may be said of form, resistance,
and the whole series of the properties of matter.
They are only our sensations clothed with external
bodies. It is therefore absolutely legitimate to
consider a part of our sensations, the object part,
as being of physical nature. This is the opinion
to which I adhere.
We come to the second opinion we have for-
mulated. It is, in appearance at least, very
different from the first. Its supporters agree that
the entire sensation, taken en bloc and unana-
lysed, is to be termed a psychological pheno-
menon. In this case, the act of consciousness,
included in the sensation, continues to represent
a psychical element. They suppose, besides, that
the object on which this act operates is psychical ;
68 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
and finally, they suppose that this object or this
impression was provoked in us by a physical
reality which is kept in concealment, which
we do not perceive, and which remains un-
knowable.
This opinion is nowise absurd in itself: but
let us examine its consequences. If we admit
this thesis, that sensations are manifestations of
mind which, although provoked by material
causes, are of a purely mental nature, we are
forced to the conclusion that we know none of
the properties of material bodies, since we do not
enter into relations with these bodies. The object
we apprehend by perception is, according to this
hypothesis, solely mental. To draw therefrom any
notion on material objects, it would have to be
supposed that, by some mysterious action, the
mental which we know resembles the physical
which we do not know, that it retains the reflec-
tion of it, or even that it allows its colour and
form to pass, like a transparent pellicle applied
on the contour of bodies. Here are hypotheses
very odd in their realism. Unless we accept
them, how is it comprehensible that we can know
anything whatever of physical nature ? We
should be forced to acknowledge, following the
example of several philsophers, that the percep-
tion of the physical is an illusion.
As a compensation, that which this system
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 69
takes from matter it attributes to mind, which
turns our familiar conceptions upside down. The
qualities of sensation detached from matter will,
when applied to mind, change its physiognomy.
There are sensations of extent, weight, space, and
form. If these sensations are turned into psychical
events, we shall have to grant to these events, to
these manifestations of the mind, the properties of
extent, of weight, of form. We shall have to say
that mind is a resisting thing, and that it has
colour.
It may be said that this fantasy of language is
not very serious. So be it. But then what remains
of the dualism of mind and matter ? It is at least
singularly compromised. We may continue to
suppose that matter exists, and even that it is
matter which provokes in our mind those events
which we call our sensations ; but we cannot know
if by its nature, its essence, this matter differs from
that of mind, since we shall be ignorant of all its
properties. Our ignorance on this point will be so
complete that we shall not even be able to know
whether any state which we call mental may not
be physical. The distinction between physical
and mental will have lost its raison d'&re, since
the existence of the physical is necessary to give
a meaning to the existence of the mental. We are
brought, whether we like it or not, to an experi-
mental monism, which is neither psychical nor
7o THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
physical; panpsychism and panmaterialism will
have the same meaning. 1
But this monism can be only transitory, for it
is more in the words than in the thing itself. It
is brought about by the terminology adopted,
by the resolution to call mental all the phe-
nomena that it is possible to know. Luckily,
our speculations are not at the mercy of such
trifling details as the details of language. What-
ever names may be given to this or that, it will
remain none the less true that nature will con-
tinue to present to us a contrast between phe-
nomena which are flints, pieces of iron, clods of
earth, brains — and some other phenomena which
we call states of consciousness. Whatever be
the value of this dualism, it will have to be dis-
cussed even in the hypothesis of panpsychism. 2
As for myself, I shall also continue to make a
distinction between what I have called objects of
cognition and acts of cognition, because this is
the most general distinction that can be traced
in the immense field of our cognitions. There
is no other which succeeds, to the same degree,
in dividing this field into two, moreover, this
distinction is derived directly from observation,
1 An American author, Morton Prince, lately remarked this :
Philotophical Review, July 1904, p. 450.
9 This Flournoy recently has shown very wittily. See in
Arch, de PtychoL, Nov. 1904, his article on Panpsyohism.
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 71
and does not depend for its validity on the
physical or mental nature of the objects. Here
is, then, a duality, and this duality, even when
it does not bear the names physical and moral,
should necessarily play the same part, since it
corresponds to the same distinction of fact.
In the end, nothing will be changed, and this
second opinion must gradually merge into the
one first stated by me, and of which I take the
responsibility. We may, therefore, put it out of
consideration.
I have mentioned a third opinion, stating that
it appeared to me to be radically false. Out-
wardly it is the same as the last; looked at
superficially it seems even confused with it ; but,
in reality it is of a totally different nature. It
supposes that sensation is an entirely psycho-
logical phenomenon. Then, having laid down this
thesis, it undertakes to demonstrate it by assert-
ing that sensation differs from the physical fact,
which amounts to supposing that we cannot know
anything but sensations, and that physical facts
are known to us directly and by another channel.
This is where the contradiction comes in. It is so
apparent that 6ne wonders how it has been over-
looked by so many excellent minds. In order
to remove it, it will be sufficient to recollect that
we do not know anything other than sensations ;
it is therefore impossible to make any distinction
72 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
between the physical object and the object of cog-
nition contained in every sensation. The line of
demarcation between the physical and the moral
cannot pass this way, since it would separate
facta which are identical.
We can, therefore, only deplore the error of
all those who, to express the difference between
mind and matter, have sought a contrast between
sensation and physical facts. Physiologists, with
hardly an exception, have fallen into this error ;
when contemplating in imagination the material
working of the brain, they have thought that
between the movement of cerebral matter and
sensation there was a gulf fixed. The comparison,
to have been correct, required to be presented in
quite another way. A parallel, for instance, should
have been drawn between a certain cerebral move-
ment and the act of consciousness, and there should
have been said : " The cerebral motion is the phy-
sical phenomenon, the act of consciousness the
psychical." But this distinction has not been
made. It is sensation en bloc which is com-
pared to the cerebral movement, as witness a few
passages I will quote as a matter of curiosity,
which are borrowed from philosophers and, espe-
cially, from physiologists.
While philosophers take as a principle of
idealism, that the mental can only know the
mental, physiologists take, as a like principle,
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 73
the heterogeneity existing, or supposed to exist,
between the nerve impression and the sensation.
"However much we may follow the excitement
through the whole length of the nerve/' writes
Lotze, 1 " or cause it to change its form a thousand
times and to metamorphose itself into more and
more delicate and subtle movements, we shall
never succeed in showing that a movement thus
produced can, by its very nature, cease to exist
as movement and be reborn in the shape of
sensation. . . ." It will be seen that it is on
the opposition between molecular movement and
sensation, that Lotze insists. In like manner
Ferrier: "But how is it that the molecular
modifications in the cerebral cells coincide with
the modifications of the consciousness; how, for
instance, do luminous vibrations falling upon the
retina excite the modification of consciousness
called visual sensation t These are problems we
cannot solve. We may succeed in determining the
exact nature of the molecular changes which take
place in the cerebral cells when a sensation is
felt ; but this will not bring us an inch nearer to
the explanation of the fundamental nature of
sensation." Finally, Du Bois Reymond, in his
famous discussion in 1880, on the seven enigmas
1 Thii extract, together with the two subsequent, are borrowed
from an excellent lecture by Floubnoy, on MHaphytiqut ct
Physiologic. Georg: Geneva, 1 890.
74 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
of the world, speaks somewhat as follows: "The
astronomical knowledge of the encephalon, that
is, the most intimate to which we can aspire,
only reveals to us matter in motion. But no
arrangement nor motion of material particles can
act as a bridge by which we can cross over into
the domain of intelligence. . . • What imaginable
link is there between certain movements of certain
molecules in my brain, on the one hand, and
on the other hand primitive, undefinable, un-
deniable facts such as: I have the sensation of
softness, I smell the odour of a rose, I hear the
sound of an organ, I see a red colour, &c. . . ."
These three quotations show very conclusively
that their authors thought they could establish
the heterogeneity of the two phenomena by op-
posing matter to sensation. It must be recognised
that they have fallen into a singular error; for
matter, whatever it may be, is for us nothing but
sensation; matter in motion, I have often re-
peated, is only a quite special kind of sensation ;
the organic matter of the brain, with its whirling
movements of atoms, is only sensation. Conse-
quently, to oppose the molecular changes in the
brain to the sensation of red, blue, green, or to an
undefined sensation of any* sort, is not crossing a
gulf, and bringing together things which cannot
be compared, it is simply comparing one sensa-
tion to another sensation.
DEFINITION OF SENSATION 75
There is evidently something equivocal in all
this ; and I pointed this out when outlining and dis-
cussing the different theories of matter. It consists
in taking from among the whole body of sensations
certain of them which are considered to be special,
and which are then invested with the privilege of
being more important than the rest and the causes
of all the others. This is about as illegitimate
as to choose among men a few individuals to
whom is attributed the privilege of commanding
others by divine right. These privileged sensa-
tions which belong to the sight, the touch, and the
muscular sense, and which are of large extent, are
indeed extensive. They have been unduly consi-
dered as objective and as representing matter be-
cause they are better known and measurable, while
the other sensations, the unextensive sensations of
the other senses, are considered as subjective for
the reasons that they are less known and less
measurable: and they are therefore looked on
as connected with our sensibility, our Ego, and
are used to form the moral world.
We cannot subscribe to this way of establishing
the contrast between matter and thought, since it
is simply a contrast between two categories of
sensations, and I have already asserted that the
partitioning - out of sensations into two groups
having different objective values, is arbitrary.
CHAPTER III
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE
Going on with our inventory, after sensations
come images, ideas, and concepts; in fact, quite
a collection of phenomena, which are generally
considered as essentially psychological.
So long as one does not carefully analyse the
value of ideas, one remains under the impression
that ideas form a world apart, which is sharply
distinguished from the physical world, and behaves
towards it as an antithesis. For is not conception
the contrary of perception ? and is not the ideal in
opposition to reality ?
Thoughts have some characteristics of fancy, of
freedom, even of unreality, which are wanting to the
prosaicness of heavy material things. Thoughts
sport with the relations of time and space ; they
fly in a moment across the gulf between the most
distant objects; they travel back up the course
of time; they bring near to us events centuries
away; they conceive objects which are unreal;
they imagine combinations which upset all physical
laws, and, further, these conceptions remain invi-
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE 77
sible to others as well as to ourselves. They are
outside the grip of reality, and constitute a world
which becomes, for any one with the smallest
imagination, as great and as important as the
world called real. One may call in evidence the
poets, novelists, artists, and the dreamers of all
kinds. When life becomes too hard for us, we fly
to the ideal world, there to seek forgetfulness or
compensation.
It is, therefore, easy to understand, that it should
have been proposed to carry into ideation the
dichotomy between the physical and the moral.
Many excellent authors have made the domain
of the mind begin in the ideal. Matter is that
which does not think. Descartes, in his Discovers
de la Mdthode (4th part), remarking that he may
pretend "not to have a body, and that there is
no world or place in which he exists, but that he
cannot pretend that he does not think," concludes
by saying that the mind is " a substance, all whose
essence or nature is merely to think, and which
has no need of either place or any other material
thing, in order to exist ; " in short, that " the soul
is absolutely distinct from the body." 1
1 Let me say, in passing, that this separation that Dsscabtbs
thinks he can establish between perception and ideation, is only
conceivable on condition that it be not too closely examined,
and that no exact definition of ideation be given. If we remark,
in fact, that all thought is a reproduction, in some degree, of a
sensation, we arrive at this conclusion : that a thought operated
78 THIS MIND AND THE BRAIN
Let us, then, examine in what measure this
separation between perception and ideation can
be legitimately established. If we accept this
separation, we must abandon the distinction I
proposed between acts and objects of cognition,
or, at least, admit that this distinction does not
correspond to that between the physical and
the moral, since thoughts, images, recollections,
and even the most abstract conceptions, all con-
stitute, in a certain sense, objects of cognition.
They are phenomena which, when analysed, are
clearly composed of two parts, an object and a
cognition. Their logical composition is, indeed,
that of an external perception, and there is in
ideation exactly the same duality as in sensa-
tion. Consequently, if we maintain the above
distinction as a principle of classification for
all knowable phenomena, we shall be obliged to
assign the same position to ideas as to sensations.
The principal difference we notice between
sensation and idea is, it would seem, the character
of unreality in the last named ; but this opposition
has not the significance we imagine. Our mental
by a sool distinct from the body would be a thought completely
void and without object, it would be the thought of nothingness.
It is not, therefore, conceivable. Consequently the criterion,
already so dangerous, which Descartes constantly employs — to
wit: that what we clearly conceive is true— cannot apply to
thought, if we take the trouble to analyse it and to replace a
purely verbal conception by intuition.
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE 79
vision only assumes this wholly special character
of unreality under conditions in which it is unable
' to harmonise with the real vision. Taine has
well described the phases of the reduction of the
image by sensation : it is at the moment when it
receives the shock of an image which contradicts '
it, that the image appears as illusory. 1 Let us
suppose that we are sitting down, dreaming and
watching the passing by of our images. If, at
this moment, a sudden noise calls us back to
reality, the whole of our mental phantasmagoria
disappears as if by the wave of a magic wand, and
it is by thus vanishing that the image shows its
falsity. It is false because it does not accord with
the present reality.
But, when we do not notice a disagreement
between these two modes of cognition, both alike
give us the impression of reality. If I evoke a
reminiscence and dwell attentively on the details,
I have the impression that I am in face of the
reality itself. " I feel as if I were there still," is
a common saying; and, among the recollections
I evoke, there are some which give me the same
1 I somewhat regret that Taine fell into the common-place
idea of the opposition of the brain and thought ; he took up
again this old idea without endeavouring to analyse it, and
only made it his own by the ornamentation of his style. And
as his was a mind of powerful systematisation, the error which
he committed led him into much wider consequences than the
error of a more common mind would have done.
80 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
certitude as the perception of the moment.
Certain witnesses would write their depositions
with their blood. One does not see this every
day ; but still one does see it.
Further, there are thousands of circumstances
where the ideation is neither in conflict with the
perception nor isolated from it, but in logical
continuity with it. This continuity must even
be considered as the normal condition. We
think in the direction of that which we perceive.
The image seems to prepare the adaptation of
the individual to his surroundings ; it creates the
foresight, the preparation of the means, and, in
a word, everything which constitutes for us a
final cause. Now, it is very necessary that the
image appear real to be usefully the substitute
of the sensation past or to come.
Let us establish one thing more. Acting as
a substitute, the image not only appears as real
as the sensation, it appears to be of the same
nature; and the proof is that they are con-
founded one with the other, and that those who
are not warned of the fact take one for the other.
Every time a body is perceived, as I previously
explained, there are images which affix themselves
to the sensation unnoticed. We think we perceive
when we are really remembering or imagining.
This addition of the image to the sensation is not
a petty and insignificant accessory ; it forms the
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE 81
major part, perhaps nine-tenths, of perception.
Hence arise the illusions of the senses, which are
the result, not of sensations but of ideas. From
this also comes the difficulty of knowing exactly
what, under certain circumstances, is observation
or perception, where the fact perceived ends, and
where conjecture begins. Once acquainted with
all these possibilities of errors, how can we sup-
pose a radical separation between the sensation
and the image ?
Examined more closely, images appear to us to
be divisible into as many kinds as sensations:
visual images correspond to visual sensations,
tactile to tactile, and so on with all the senses.
That which we experience in the form of
sensation, we can experience over again in the
form of image, and the repetition, generally weaker
in intensity and poorer in details, may, under
certain favourable circumstances, acquire an ex-
ceptional intensity, and even equal reality: as
is shown by hallucinations. Here, certainly,
are very sound reasons for acknowledging that
the images which are at the bottom of our
thoughts, and form the object of them, are the
repetition, the modification, the transposition, the
analysis or the synthesis of sensations experienced
in the past, and possessing, in consequence, all
the characteristics of bodily states. I believe
that there is neither more nor less spirituality
p
82 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
in the idea than in the sensation. That which
forms its spirituality is the implied act of cogni-
tion ; but its object is material
I foresee a final objection : I shall be told that
even when the unreality of the image is not the
rule, and appears only under certain circumstances,
it nevertheless exists. This is an important fact.
It has been argued from the unreality of dreams
and hallucinations in which we give a body to
our ideas, that we do not in reality perceive
external bodies, but simply psychical states and
modifications of our souls. If our ideas consist —
according to the hypothesis I uphold — in physical
impressions which are felt, we shall be told that
these particular impressions must participate in
the nature of everything physical ; that they are
real, and always real ; that they cannot be unreal,
fictitious, and mendacious, and that, consequently,
the fictitious character of ideation becomes in-
explicable.
Two words of answer are necessary to this
curious argument, which is nothing less than an
effort to define the mental by the unreal, and to
suppose that an appearance cannot be physical.
No doubt, we say, every image, fantastical as it
may seem as signification, is real in a certain
sense, since it is the perception of a physical
impression; but this physical nature of images
does not prevent our making a distinction between
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE 83
true and false images. To take an analogous
example : we are given a sheet of proofs to correct,
we delete certain redundant letters, and, although
they are printed with the same type as the other
letters, we have the right to say they are false.
Again, in a musical air, we may hear a false note,
though it is as real as the others, since it has
been played. This distinction between reality and
truth ought to be likewise applied to mental
images. All are real, but some are false. They
are false when they do not accord with the
whole reality; they are true when they agree;
and every image is partly false because, being an
image, it does not wholly accord with the actual
perceptions. It creates a belief in a perception
which does not occur; and by developing these
ideas we could easily demonstrate how many
degrees of falsehood there are.
Physiologically, we may very easily reconcile
the falsity of the image with the physical character
of the impression on which it is based. The
image results from a partial cerebral excitement,
which sensation results from an excitement which
also acts upon the peripheral sensory nerves, and
corresponds to an external object — an excitant
which the image does not possess. This differ-
ence explains how it is that the image, while
resulting from a physical impression, may yet be
in a great number of cases declared false — that
84 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
is to say, may be recognised as in contradiction
to the perceptions.
To other minds, perhaps, metaphysical reasoning
will be more satisfactory. For these, we propose to
make a distinction between two notions, Existence
or Reality, on the one hand, and Truth, on the
other.
Existence or Reality is that of which we have
an immediate apprehension. This apprehension
occurs in several ways. In perception, in the first
place. I perceive the reality of my body, of a table,
the sky, the earth, in proportion to my perception
of them. They exist, for if they did not, I could
not perceive them. Another way of understanding
reality is conception or thought. However much
I may represent a thing to myself as imaginary, it
nevertheless exists in a certain manner, since I can
represent it to myself. I therefore, in this case,
say that it is real or it exists. It is of course
understood, that in these definitions I am going
against the ordinary acceptation of the terms ; I
am taking the liberty of proposing new meanings.
This reality is, then, perceived in one case and con-
ceived in the other. Perceptibility or conceiv-
ability are, then, the two forms which reality may
assume. But reality is not synonymous with
truth; notwithstanding the custom to the contrary,
we may well introduce a difference between these
two terms. Reality is that which is perceived or
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE 85
conceived; truth is that which accords with the
whole of our knowledge. Reality is a function of
the senses or of ideation; truth is a function of
reasoning or of the reason.
For cognition to be complete, it requires the aid
of all these functions. And, in fact, what does
conception by itself give ? It allows us to see if a
thing is capable of representation. This is not a
common-place thing, I will observe in passing ; for
many things we name are not capable of repre-
sentation, and there is often a criticism to be
made; we think we are representing, and we tire
not What is capable of representation exists as a
representation, but is it true ? Some philosophers
have imagined so, but they are mistaken ; what we
succeed in conceiving is alone possible.
Let us now take the Perceptible. Is what one
perceives true? Tes, in most cases it is so in
fact ; but an isolated perception may be false, and
disturbed by illusions of all kinds. It is all very
well to say, " I see, I touch." There is no certainty
through the senses alone in many circumstances
that the truth has been grasped. If I am shown
the spirit of a person I know to be dead, I shall not,
notwithstanding the testimony of my eyes, believe
it to be true, for this apparition would upset all
my system of cognitions.
Truth is that which, being deemed conceivable,
and being really perceived, has also the quality
86 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
of finding its place, its relation, and its confirma-
tion in the whole mass of cognitions previously
acquired.
These distinctions, 1 if developed, would readily
demonstrate that the advantages of observation
are not eclipsed by those of speculation ; and that
those of speculation, in their turn, do not interfere
with those of observation. But we have not time
to develop these rules of logic ; it will be sufficient
to point out their relation to the question of the
reality of mental images. Here are my conclu-
sions in two words. Physical phenomena and
images are always real, since they are perceived or
conceived; what is sometimes wanting to them,
and makes them false, is that they do not accord
with the rest of our cognitions. 2
Thus, then, are all objections overruled, in my
opinion at least. We can now consider the world
1 I have just oome across them again in an ingenious note of
C. L. HBBBICK : The Logical and Psychological Distinction bettoeen
the True and the Real (Ptyoh. i&t>.,May 1904). I entirely agree
with this author. But it is not he who exercised a suggestion over
my mind ; it was M. BfiBGSON. See Matiere et Mimoire, p. 159.
3 In order to remain brief, I have not thought fit to allude in
the text to a question of metaphysics which closely depends
on the one broached by me : the existence of an outer world.
Philosophers who define sensation as a modality of our Ego are
much embarrassed later in demonstrating the existence of an,
outer world. Having first admitted that our perception of it
is illusory, since, when we think we perceive this world, we have
simply the feeling of the modalities of our Ego, they find them-
selves powerless to demonstrate that this illusion corresponds to
DEFINITION OF THE IMAGE 87
of ideas as a physical world; but it is one of a
peculiar nature, which is not, like the other, acces-
sible to all, and is subject to its own laws, which
are laws of association. By these very different
characteristics, it separates itself so sharply from
the outer world that all endeavour to bring the
two together seems shocking ; and it is very easy
to understand that many minds should wish to
remain faithful to the conception that ideas form a
mental or moral world. No metaphysical reason-
ing could prevail against this sentiment, and we
must give up the idea of destroying it. But we
think we have shown that idea, like sensation,
comprises at the same, time the physical and the
mental.
a truth, and invoke in despair, for the purpose of their demon-
stration, instinct, hallucination, or some a priori law of the
mind. The position we have taken in the discussion is far more
simple. Since every sensation is a fragment of matter perceived
by a mind, the aggregate of sensations constitutes the aggregate
of matter. There is in this no deceptive appearance, and con-
sequently no need to prove a reality distinct from appearances.
As to the argument drawn from dreams and hallucinations
which might be brought against this, I have shown how it is
set aside by a distinction between perceptibility and truth. It
is no longer a matter of perception, but of reasoning. In other
words, all that we see, even in dreams, is real, but is not in its
due place.
CHAPTER IV
DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS
After sensations and images, we have to name
among the phenomena of consciousness, the whole
series of affective states — our pleasures and our
pains, our joys and our griefs, our sentiments, our
emotions, and our passions. It is universally ad-
mitted that these states are of a mental nature,
for several reasons, (i) We never objectivate
them as we do our sensations, but we constantly
consider them as indwelling or subjective states.
This rule, however, allows an exception for the
pleasure and the pain termed physical, which
are often localised in particular parts of our
bodies, although the position attributed to them
is less precise than with indifferent sensations.
(2) We do not alienate them as we do our
indifferent sensations. The sensations of weight,
of colour, and of form serve us for the construction
of bodies which appear to us as perceived by
us, but as being other than ourselves. On the
contrary, we constantly and without hesitation
refer our emotional states to our Ego. It is I
DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS 89
who suffer, we say, I who complain, I who hope.
It is true that this attribution is not absolutely
characteristic of mental phenomena, for it happens
that we put a part of our Ego into material
objects, such as our bodies, and even into objects
separate from our bodies, and whose sole relation
to us is that of a legal proprietorship. We must
guard against the somewhat frequent error of
identifying the Ego with the psychical.
These two reasons sufficiently explain the
tendency to see only psychological states in the
emotional ones; and, in fact, those authors who
have sought to oppose mind to matter have not
failed to introduce emotion into their parallel as
representing the essence of mind. On' this point
I will recall the fine ironical image used by
Tyndall, the illustrious English physicist, to show
the abyss which separates thought from the
molecular states of the brain. " Let us suppose/'
he says, "that the sentiment love, for example,
corresponds to a right-hand spiral movement of
the molecules of the brain and the sentiment
hatred to a left-hand spiral movement. We
should then know that when we love, a move-
ment is produced in one direction, and when we
hate, in another. But the Why would remain
without an answer."
The question of knowing what place in our
metaphysical theory we ought to secure for emo-
90 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
tion seems difficult to resolve, and we even find
some pleasure in leaving it in suspense, in order
that it may be understood that a metaphysician
is not compelled to explain everything. Besides,
the difficulties which stop us here are peculiarly
of a psychological order. They proceed from the
fact that studies on the nature of the emotions
are still very little advanced. The physical con-
ditions of these states are pretty well known,
and their psychical and social effects have been
abundantly described; but very little is known
as to what distinguishes an emotion from a
thought.
Two principal opinions may be upheld in
the actual state of our acquaintance with the
psychology of the feelings. When we endeavour
to penetrate their essential and final nature, we
have a choice between two contrary theories.
The first and traditional one consists in seeing
in emotion a phenomenon mi generis; this is
very simple, and leaves nothing more to be said.
The second bears the name of the intellectualist
theory. It consists in expunging the characteristic
of the affective states. We consider them as de-
rivative forms of particular modes of cognition,
and they are only " confused intelligence/' This
intellectualist thesis is of early date; it will
be found in Herbart, who, by-the-by, gave it a
peculiar form, by oausing the play of images to
DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS 91
intervene in the formation of the feelings. How-
ever, this particular point is of slight importance.
The intellectualist theory is more vast than
Herbartism; it exists in all doctrines in which
the characteristic difference between thought and
feeling is expunged and feeling is brought back
to thought. One of the clearest means of so
doing consists in only seeing in the feeling the
fact of perceiving something. To perceive is, in
fact, the property of intelligence; to reason, to
imagine, to judge, to understand, is always, in a
certain sense, to perceive. It has been imagined
that emotion is nothing else than a perception of
a certain kind, an intellectual act strictly com-
parable to the contemplation of a landscape.
Only, in the place of a landscape with placid
features you must put a storm, a cataclysm of
nature; and, instead of supposing this storm
outside us, let it burst within us, let it reach
us, not by the outer senses of sight and con-
dition, but by the inner senses. What we then
perceive will be an emotion.
Such is the theory that two authors — W. James
and Lange — happened to discover almost at the
same time, Lange treating it as a physiologist
and W. James as a philosopher. Their theory,
at first sight, appears singular, like everything
which runs counter to our mental habits. It
lays down that the symptoms which we all till
92 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
now have considered as the physiological conse-
quence, the translation, and the distant effects
of the emotions, constitute their essential base.
These effects are : the expression of the physiog-
nomy, the gesture, the cry, and the speech; or
the reflex action on the circulation, the pallor
or blushing, the heat mounting to the head, or
the cold of the shiver which passes over the
body. Or it is the heart, which hastens or
slackens its beats, or makes them irregular,
or enfeebles, or augments them. Or the respira-
tion, which changes its rhythm, or increases, or
is suspended. Or else it is the secretion of the
saliva or of the sweat, which flows in abund-
ance or dries up. Or the muscular force, which
is increased or decays. Or the almost undefinable
organic troubles revealed to us by the singing
in the ears, constriction of the epigastrium, the
jerks, the trembling, vertigo, or nausea — all this
collection of organic troubles which comes more
or less confusedly to our consciousness under the
form of tactile, muscular, thermal, and other
sensations. Until now this category of pheno-
mena has been somewhat neglected, because we
saw in it effects and consequences of which the
role in emotion itself seemed slight, since, if they
could have been suppressed, it was supposed that
emotion would still remain. The new theory
commences by changing the order of events. It
DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS
places the physical symptoms of the emotions
at the very beginning, and considers them the
direct effects of the external excitant, which is
expressed by this elegant formula: "It used to
be said, 'I perceive a danger; I am frightened,
I tremble.' Now we must say, ' 1 tremble before
a danger, first, and it is after having trembled
that I am frightened.' " This is not a change in
order only; it is something much more serious.
The change is directed to the nature of emotion.
It is considered to exist in the organic derange-
ments indicated above. These derangements are
the basis of emotion, its physical basis, and to be
moved is to perceive them. Take away from the
consciousness this physical reflex, and emotion
ceases. It is no longer anything but an idea.
This theory has at least the merit of ori-
ginality. It also pleases one by its great clear-
ness — an entirely intellectual clearness, we may
say; for it renders emotion comprehensible by
enunciating it in terms of cognition. It elimi-
nates all difference which may exist between a
perception and an emotion. Emotion is no longer
anything but a certain kind of perception, the
perception of the organic sensations.
This reduction, if admitted, would much facili-
tate the introduction of emotion into our system,
which, being founded on the distinction between
the consciousness and the object, is likewise an
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
intellectualist system. The definition of emotion,
as it is taught by W. James, seems expressly
made for us who are seeking to resolve all in-
tellectual states into physical impressions accom-
panied by consciousness.
By the side of emotion we may place, as de-
manding the same analytical study, the feeling
of effort. We ought to inquire with effort, as
has been done with emotion, what is the psycho-
logical nature of this phenomenon; and in thp
same way that there exists an intellectualist
theory of the emotions, viz. that of James, who
reduces all the history of the emotions to intelli-
gence, so there exists an intellectualist theory of
effort, which likewise tends to bring back all
will to intelligence. It is again the same author,
that true genius, W. James, who has attempted
this reduction. I do not know whether he has taken
into account the parallelism of the two theories*
but it is nevertheless evident. Effort, that basis
of activity, that state of consciousness which so
many psychologists have described as something
mi generis, becomes to James a phenomenon
of perception. It is the perception of sensations
proceeding from the muscles, the tendons, the
articulations, the skin, and from all the organs
directly or indirectly concerned in the execution
of movement. To be conscious of an effort would
then be nothing else than to receive all these
DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS 95
centripetal sensations; and what proves this is,
that the consciousness of effort when most clearly
manifested is accompanied by some muscular
energy, some strong contraction, or some respi-
ratory trouble, and yields if we render the
respiration again regular and put the muscles
back into repose.
To my great regret I can state nothing very
clear regarding these problems. The attempt to
intellectualise all psychical problems is infinitely
interesting, and leads to a fairly clear conception,
by which everything is explained by a mechanism
reflected in a mirror, which is the consciousness.
But we remain perplexed, and we ask ourselves
whether this clearness of perception is not some-
what artificial, whether affectivity, emotivity, ten-
dency, will, are really all reduced to perceptions,
or whether they are not rather irreducible ele-
ments which should be added to the conscious-
ness. Does not, for instance, desire represent a
complement of the consciousness ? Do not desire
and consciousness together represent a something
which does not belong to the physical domain
and which forms the moral world? This ques-
tion I leave unanswered.
CHAPTER V
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS — THE RELATION
SUBJECT-OBJECT
After having separated from the consciousness
that which it is not, let us try to define what
it is. This and the two following chapters are
devoted to this study.
A theory has often been maintained with regard
to the consciousness ; namely, that it supposes a
relation between two terms — a subject and an
object, and that it consists exactly in the feel-
ing of this relation. By subject is understood
the something that has consciousness ; the object
is the something of which we are conscious.
Every thought, we are told, implies subject and
object, the representer and the represented, the
sentiens and the sen&wm — the one active, the
other passive, the active acting on the passive,
the ego opposed to the non ego.
This opinion is almost legitimised by current
language. When speaking of our states of con-
sciousness, we generally say, " I am conscious ; it
is I who have consciousness/ 1 and we attribute
96
■
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 97
to our I, to our Ego, to our personality, the rdle
of subject. But this is not a peremptory argu-
ment in favour of the above opinion; it is only
a presumption, and, closely examined, this pre-
sumption seems very weak.
Hitherto, when analysing the part of mind,
we have employed non-committal terms : we have
said that sensation implied consciousness, and not
that sensation implied something which is con-
scious. 1 The difference may appear too subtle,
but it is not ; it consists in taking from conscious-
ness the notion of a subject being conscious and
replacing it by the very act of consciousness.
My description applies very exactly, I think, to
the facts. When we are engaged in a sensation,
or when we perceive something, a phenomenon
occurs which simply consists in having conscious-
ness of a thing. If to this we add the idea of
the subject which has consciousness, we distort
the event. At the very moment when it is taking
place, it is not so complicated ; we complicate it
by adding to it the work of reflection. It is
1 This second method of expression, which I consider in-
exact, is constantly found in Descabtes. Different philosophers
have explicitly admitted that every act of cognition implies a
relation subject- object. This is one of the corner-stones of the
neo-criticism of Renouvieb. He asserts that all representation
is double-faced, and that what is known to us presents itself
in the character of both representative and represented. He
follows this up by describing separately the phenomena and laws
of the representative and of the represented respectively.
O
98 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
reflection which constructs the notion of the
subject, and it is this which afterwards introduces
this construction into the states of consciousness ;
in this way the state of consciousness, by receiv-
ing this notion of subject, acquires a character
of duality it did not previously possess. There
are, in short, two separate acts of consciousness,
and one is made the subject of the other.
"Primitively," says Rabier, "there is neither re-
presentative nor represented ; there are sensations,
representations, facts of consciousness, and that
is all. Nothing is more exact, in my opinion,
than this view of Condillac's: — that primitively,
the inanimate statue is entirely the sensation
that it feels. To itself it is all odour and all
savour; it is nothing more, and this sensation
includes no duality for the consciousness. It is
of an absolute simplicity."
Two arguments may be advanced in favour of
this opinion. The first is one of logic. We have
divided all knowledge into two groups — objects
of cognition, and acts of cognition. What is the
subject of cognition ? Does it form a new group ?
By no means; it forms part of the first group,
of the object group ; for it is something to be
known.
Our second argument is one of fact. It consists
in remembering that which in practice we under-
stand by the subject of cognition ; or rather, meta-
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 99
phorically we represent this subject to ourselves
as an organ — the eye that sees or the hand
that touches — and we represent to ourselves the
relation subject-object in the shape of a material
relation between two distinct bodies which are
separated by an interval and between which some
action is produced which unites them. Or else,
confusing the subject and the Ego, which are never-
theless two different notions, we place the Ego in
the consciousness of the muscular effort struggling
against something which resists. Or, finally and
still more frequently, we represent the subject to
ourselves by confusing it with our own person-
ality ; it is a part of our biography, our name, our
profession, our social status, our body, our past
life foreshortened, our character, or, in a word, our
civil personality, which becomes the subject of
the relation subject-object. We artificially endow
this personality with the faculty of having con-
sciousness; and it results from this that the
entity consciousness, so difficult to define and to
imagine, profits by all this factitious addition
and becomes a person, visible and even very
large, in flesh and bone, distinct from the object
of cognition, and capable of living a separate
life.
It is not difficult to explain that all this
clearness in the representation of ideas is
acquired by a falsification of the facts. So
ioo THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
sensorial a representation of consciousness is very
unfaithful; for our biography does not represent
what we have called acts of consciousness, but a
large slice of our past experience — that is to say,
a synthesis of bygone sensations and images, a
synthesis of objects of consciousness; therefore
a complete confusion between the acts of con-
sciousness and their objects. The formation of
the personality seems to me to have, above all,
a legal and social importance. 1 It is a peculiar
grouping of states of consciousness imposed by
our relations with other individuals. But, meta-
physically, the subject thus understood is not
distinguished from the object, and there is no-
thing to add to our distinction between the object
and the act of consciousness.
Those who defend the existence of the subject
point out that this subject properly constitutes
the Ego, and that the distinction of the subject
and the object corresponds to the distinction of
the Ego and non-Ego, and furnishes the separa-
1 The preceding ten lines in the text I wrote after reading a
recent article of William Jambs, who wishes to show that the
consciousness does not exist, but results simply from the relation
or the opposition raised between one part of oar experience
(the actual experience, for instance, in the example of the per-
ception of an object) and another part, the remembrance of our
person. But the argument of James goes too far ; he is right
in contesting the relation subject-object, but not in contesting
the existence of the consciousness (W. Jambs : 14 Does conscious-
ness exist ? " in /. of Philosophy, <fc., Sept. 1904).
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 101
tion between the physical and the moral so long
sought.
It is evidently very enticing to make of the Ego
thus a primitive notion of the consciousness ; but
this view of the Ego as opposed to the non-Ego in
no way corresponds to that of the mental and the
physical The notion of the Ego is much larger,
much more extensible, than that of the mental ;
it is as encroaching as human pride, it grasps in
its conquering talons all that belongs to us ; for
we do not, in life, make any great difference be-
tween what is we and what is ours — an insult to
our dog, our dwelling, or our work wounds us
as much as an insult to ourselves. The posses-
sive pronoun expresses both possession and pos-
sessor. In fact, we consider our body as being
ourselves.
Here, then, are numbers of material things in-
troducing themselves into the category of mental
things. If we wished to expel them and to
reduce the domain of the Ego to the domain
of the mental, we could only do so if we already
possessed the criterion of what is essentially
mental. The notion of the Ego cannot there-
fore supply us with this criterion.
Another opinion consists in making of the subject
a spiritual substance, of which the consciousness
becomes a faculty. By substance is understood an
entity which possesses the two following princi-
io2 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
pal characteristics, unity and identity, this latter
merging into unity, for it is nothing else but
the persistence of unity through the course of
time. Certain philosophers have asserted that
through intuition we can all establish that we
are a spiritual substance. I am compelled to
reject this idea, because I think the expression
spiritual mbstance has no meaning ; nothing but
the sonorous value of six syllables. It has also
been supposed, that there exists a corporeal sub-
stance hidden under the sensations, in which are
implanted the qualities of bodies, as the various
organs of a flower are in its calyx. I will return
later to this conception of a material substance.
That of a spiritual substance cannot be defended,
and the chief and fatal argument I urge against it
is, that we cannot represent it to our minds, we
cannot think it, and we cannot see in these words
"spiritual substance" any intelligible idea; for
that which is mental is limited to " that which is
of the consciousness." So soon as we endeavour
to go beyond the fact of having consciousness to
imagine a particular state which must be mental,
one of two things happen ; either we only grasp
the void, or else we construct a material and
persistent object in which we recognise psychical
attributes. These are two conclusions which
ought to be rejected.
CHAPTER VI
DEFINITION OP THE CONSCIOUSNESS — CATEGORIES
OF THE UNDERSTANDING
It has often been said that the role of intelli-
gence consists in uniting or grasping the relations
of things. An important question, therefore, to
put, is, if we know whereof these relations con-
sist, and what is the role of the mind in the
establishment of a relation?
It now and then happens to us to perceive
an isolated object, without comparing it with
any other, or endeavouring to find out whether
it differs from or resembles another, or presents
with any other a relation of cause to effect, or
of sign to thing signified, or of co-existence in
time and space. Thus, I may see a red colour,
and occupy all the intellect at my disposal in the
perception of this colour, seeing nothing but it,
and thinking of nothing but it. Theoretically,
this is not impossible to conceive, and, practically,
I ask myself if these isolated and solitary acts of
consciousness do not sometimes occur.
It certainly seems to me that I have noticed
in myself moments of intellectual tonelessness,
XQ3
104 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
when in the country, during the vacation, I look
at the ground, or the grass, without thinking
of anything— or at least, of anything but what
I am looking at, and without comparing my
sensation with anything. I do not think we
should admit in principle, as do many philo-
sophers, that "we take no cognisance save of
relations." This is the principle of relativity , to
which so much attention has been given. Taken
in this narrow sense, it seems to me in no way
imperative for our thoughts. We admit that it
is very often applied, but without feeling obliged
to admit that it is of perpetual and necessary
application.
These reserves once made, it remains to remark,
that the objects we perceive very rarely present
themselves in a state of perfect isolation. On the
contrary, they are brought near to other objects
by manifold relations of resemblance, of difference,
or of connection in time or space; and, further,
they are compared with the ideas which define
them best. We do not have consciousness of an
object, but of the relations existing between several
objects. Relation is the new state produced by
the fact that one perceives a plurality of objects,
and perceives them in a group.
Show me two colours in juxtaposition, and I
do not see two colours only, but, in addition,
their resemblance in colour or value. Show me
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 105
two lines, and I do not see only their respective
lengths but their difference in length. Show me
two points marked on a white sheet of paper, and
I do not see only the colour, form, and dimen-
sion of the points, but their distance from each
other. In our perceptions, as in our conceptions,
we have perpetually to do with the relations
between things. The more we reflect, the more
we understand things, the more clearly we see
their relations; the multiplication of relations is
the measure of the depth of cognition. 1
The nature of these relations is more difficult to
ascertain than that of objects. It seems to be
more subtle. When two sounds make themselves
heard in succession, there is less difficulty in
making the nature of these two sounds understood
than the nature of the fact that one occurs before
the other. It would appear that, in the perception
of objects, our mind is passive and reduced to
the state of reception, working like a registering
machine or a sensitive surface, while in the per-
ception of relations it assumes a more important
part.
Two principal theories have been advanced, of
which one puts the relations in the things per-
1 At the risk of being deemed too subtle, I ask whether we
are conscious of a relation between objects, or whether that
which occurs is not rather the perception of an object which
has been modified in its nature by its relation with another
object.
106 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
ceived, and the other makes them a work of the
mind. Let us begin with this last opinion. It
consists in supposing that the relations are given
to things by the mind itself. These relations
have been termed categories. The question of
categories plays an important part in the history
of philosophy. Three great philosophers, Aris-
totle, Kant, and Renouvier have drawn up a list,
or, as it is called, a table of them, and this
table is very long. To give a slight idea of it, I
will quote a few examples, such as time, space,
being, resemblance, difference, causality, becoming,
finality, &c.
By making the categories the peculiar possession
of the mind, we attribute to these cognitions the
essential characteristic of being anterior to sensa-
tion, or, as it is also termed, of existing a priori :
we are taught that not only are they not derived
from experience, nor taught us by observation, but
further that they are presupposed by all obser-
vation, for they set up, in scholastic jargon, the
conditions which make experience possible. They
represent the personal contribution of the mind to
the knowledge of nature, and, consequently, to
admit them is to admit that the mind is not, in the
presence of the world, reduced to the passive state
of a tabula rasa, and that the faculties of the
mind are not a transformation of sensation. Only
these categories do not supplement sensation, they
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 107
do not obviate it, nor allow it to be conjectured
beforehand. They remain empty forms so long as
they are not applied to experience ; they are the
rules of cognition and not the objects of cognition,
the means of knowing and not the things known ;
they render knowledge possible, but do not of
themselves constitute it. Experience through the
senses still remains a necessary condition to the
knowledge of the external world. It may be said
that the senses give the matter of knowledge, and
that the categories of the understanding give the
form of it. Matter cannot exist without form, nor
form without matter ; it is the union of the two
which produces cognition.
Such is the simplest idea that can be given of
the Kantian theory of categories, or, if it is preferred
to employ the term often used and much dis-
cussed, such is the theory of the Kantian idealism.
This theory, I will say frankly, hardly harmonises
with the ideas I have set forth up to this point.
To begin with, let us scrutinise the relation which
can exist between the subject and the object.
We have seen that the existence of the subject
is hardly admissible, for it could only be an object
in disguise. Cognition is composed in reality of
an object and an act of consciousness. Now, how
can we know if this act of consciousness, by adding
itself to the object, modifies it and causes it to
appear other than it is ?
108 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
This appears to pie an insoluble question, and
probably, even, a mctitious one. The idea that
an object can be modified in its nature or in its
aspect comes to my through the perception of
bodies. We see Mat, by attacking a metal with
acids, this metaljp modified, and that by heating
a body its colotfr and form become changed ; or
that by electrifying a thread it acquires new pro-
perties ; or that when we place glasses before our
eyes we change the visible aspect of objects; or
that, if we have inflammation of the eyelids, light
is painful, and so on. All these familiar experi-
ments represent to us the varied changes that
a body perceived can undergo; but it must be
carefully remarked that in cases of this kind the
alteration in the body is produced by the action of
a second body, that the effect is due to an inter-
course between two objects. On the contrary,
when we take the Kantian hypothesis, that the
consciousness modifies that which it perceives,
we are attributing to the consciousness an action
which has been observed in the case of the
objects, and are thus transporting into one domain
that which belongs to a different one; and we
are falling into the very common error which
consists in losing sight of the proper nature of
the consciousness and making out of it an object.
If we set aside this incorrect assimilation, there
no longer remains any reason for refusing to
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 109
admit that we perceive things as they are, and
that the consciousness, by adding itself to objects,
does not modify them.
Phenomena and appearances do not, then,
strictly speaking, exist. Till proof to the con-
trary, we shall admit that everything we perceive
is real, that we perceive things always as they
are, or, in other words, that we always perceive
noumena. 1
1 This conclusion may seem contradictory to that which I
enunciated when studying the constitution of matter. I then
asserted that we only know onr sensations and not the excitants
which produce them. Bat these sensations are matter ; they are
matter modified by other matter, viz. oar nervous centres.
We therefore take up very distinctly an opposite standpoint
to the principle of relativity: in other terms, we reject the
phenomenism of Berkeley.
When we go into metaphysics we are continually astounded
to see how different conceptions of things which have a classic
value are independent of each other. In.general, phenomenism is
opposed to substantialism, and it is supposed that those who do
not accept the former doctrine must accept the latter, while, on
the contrary, those who reject substantialism must be phenome-
nists. We know that it is in this manner that Berkeley con-
quered corporeal substantialism and taught phenomenism ; while
Hume, more radical than he, went so far as to question the
substantialism of mind. On reflection, it seems to me that, after
having rejected phenomenism, we are in no way constrained to
accept substance. By saying that we perceive things as they
are, and not through a deluding veil, we do not force ourselves
to acknowledge that we perceive the substance of bodies — that
is to say, that something which should be hidden beneath its
qualities and should be distinct from it. The distinction between
the body and its qualities is a thing useful in practice, but it
answers to no perception or observation. The body is only a
group, a sheaf of qualities. If the qualities seem unable to exist
no
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
After having examined the relations of the
consciousness with its objects, let us see what
concerns the perception, by the consciousness, of
the relations existing between these objects them-
selves. The question is to ascertain whether the a
prioriste are right in admitting that the estab-
lishment of these relations is the work of the
consciousness. The role of synthetic power that
is thus attributed to consciousness is difficult to
conceive unless we alter the definition of con-
sciousness to fit the case. In accordance with the
definition we have given and the idea we have of
of themselves and to require a subject, this ii only a grammatical
difficulty, which is due to the fact that, while calling certain
sensations qualities, we suppose a subject to be necessary. On
the other hand, the representation which we make to ourselves
of a material substance and its role as the support of the qualities,
is a very naive and mechanical representation, thanks to which
certain sensations become the supports of other and less impor-
tant sensations. It would suffice to insist on the detail of this
representation and on its origin to show its artificial character.
The notion we have of the stability of bodies and of the per-
sistence of their identity, notwithstanding certain superficial
changes, is the reason for which I thought proper to attribute a
substance to them, that is to say, an invariable element. But
we can attain the same end without this useless hypothesis ; we
have only to remark that the identity of the object lies in the
aggregate of its properties, including the name it bears. If the
majority of its properties, especially of those most important to
us, subsists without alteration, or if this alteration, though of
very great extent, takes place insensibly and by slow degrees,
we decide that the object remains the same. We have no need
for that purpose to give it a substanoe one and indestructible.
Thus we are neither adherents of phenomenism, nor of substan-
tialism.
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS in
it, the consciousness makes us acquainted with
what a thing is, but it adds nothing to it. It
is not a power which begets objects, nor is it a
power which begets relations.
Let us carefully note the consequence at which
we should arrive, if, while admitting, on the one
hand, that our consciousness lights up and reveals
the objects without creating them, we were, on
the other hand, to admit that it makes up for this
passivity by creating relations between objects.
We dare not go so far as to say that this
creation of relations is arbitrary and corresponds
in no way to reality ; or that, when we judge two
neighbouring or similar objects, the relations of
contiguity and resemblance are pure inventions
of our consciousness, and that these objects are
really neither contiguous nor similar.
It must therefore be supposed that the relation
is already, in some manner, attracted into the
objects ; it must be admitted that our intelligence
does not apply its categories haphazard or from
the caprice of the moment ; and it must be
admitted that it is led to apply them because
it has perceived in the objects themselves a sign
and a reason which are an invitation to this
application, and its justification. On this hypo-
thesis, therefore, contiguity and resemblance must
exist in the things themselves, and must be
perceived; for without this we should run the
ii2 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
risk of finding similar that which is different,
and contiguous that which has no relation of
time or space. Whence it results, evidently,
that our consciousness cannot create the con-
nection completely, and then we are greatly
tempted to conclude that it only possesses the
faculty of perceiving it when it exists in the
objects. 1
According to this conception, the role of the
consciousness in the perception of a connection
is that of a witness, as in the perception of objects.
The consciousness does not create, but it verifies.
Resemblance is a physical property of objects,
like colour ; and contiguity is a physical property
of objects, like form. The connections between
the objects form part of the group object and not
of the group consciousness, and they are just as
independent of consciousness as are the objects
themselves.
Against this conclusion we must anticipate
several objections. One of them will probably
consist in accentuating the difference existing
between the object and the connection from the
dynamical point of view. That the object may be
passively contemplated by the consciousness can
be understood, it will be said ; but the relation is
not only an object of perception — it is, further,
1 I borrow from Rabieb this argument, which has thoroughly
convinced me (see Ptyehologie, p. 281).
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 113
a principle of action, a power of suggestion, and
an agent of change.
It might, then, be supposed that the conscious-
ness here finds a compensation for the role that
has been withdrawn from it. If it is not the thing
that creates the relation, it will be said, at least
it is that which creates its efficacity of suggestion.
Many psychologists have supposed that a relation
has the power of evocation only when it has been
perceived. The perception of resemblance pre-
cedes the action of resemblance. It is conse-
quently the consciousness which assembles the
ideas and gives them birth by perceiving their
relations.
This error, for it is one, has long been wide-
spread — indeed, it still persists. 1 We have, how-
ever, no difficulty in understanding that the
perception of a resemblance between two terms
supposes them to be known; so long as only
one of the terms is present to the consciousness,
this perception does not exist; it cannot there-
fore possess the property of bringing to light the
second term. Suggestion is therefore distinct from
recognition ; it is when suggestion has acted, when
the resemblance in fact has brought the two
1 Pilon is the psychologist who has the most forcibly de-
monstrated that resemblance acts before being perceived. I
refer the readers to my Psychologie du RaisormemerU, where I have
set forth this little problem in detail.
H
114 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
terms together, that the consciousness, taking
cognisance of the work accomplished, verifies
the existence of a resemblance, and that this
resemblance explains the suggestion.
Second objection : we are told that the relations
between the objects — that is, the principal cate-
gories — must be of a mental nature, because they
are a priori. That they are a priori means
that they are at once anterior and superior to
the experience. Let us see what this argument
is worth.
It appears that it is somewhat misused. With
regard to many of the categories, we are content
to lay down the necessity of an abstract idea
in order to explain the comprehension of a con-
crete one. It is said, for example: how can it
be perceived that two sensations are successive,
if we do not already possess the idea of time?
The argument is not very convincing, because,
for every kind of concrete perception it is possible
to establish an abstract category.
It might be said of colour that it is impossible
to perceive it unless it is known beforehand what
colour is; and so on for a heap of other things.
A more serious argument consists in saying that
relations are a priori because they have a char-
acter of universality and of necessity which is not
explained by experience, this last being always
contingent and peculiar. But it is not necessary
\
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 115
that a function should be mental for it to be
a priori. The identification of the a priori with
the mental is entirely gratuitous. We should here
draw a distinction between the two senses of the
a priori: anteriority and superiority.
A simple physical mechanism may be a priori,
in the sense of anteriority. A house is a priori,
in regard to the lodgers it receives ; this book is
a priori, in regard to its future readers. There
is no difficulty in imagining the structure of our
nervous system to be a priori, in regard to the
excitements which are propagated in it. A nerve
cell is formed, with its protoplasm, its nucleus
and its nucleoli before being irritated; its pro-
perties precede its functions. If it be possible to
admit that as a consequence of ancestral experi-
ences the function has created the organ, the
latter is now formed, and this it is which in its
turn becomes anterior to the functioa The notion
of a priori has therefore nothing in it which is
repugnant to physical nature.
Let us now take the a priori in the sense of
superiority. Certain judgments of ours are, we
are told, universal and necessary, and through this
double character go beyond the evidence of ex-
perience. This is an exact fact which deserves to
be elplained, but it is not indispensable to explain
it by allowing to the consciousness a source of
special cognitions. The English school of philo-
n6 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
sophy have already attacked this problem in
connection with the origin of axioms. The
principle of their explanation lies in the virtue
of what they have termed " inseparable associa-
tion." They have supposed that when an associa-
tion is often repeated it creates a habit of thought
against which no further strife is possible. The
mechanism of association itself should then add
a special virtue to the contingency of facts. A
hundred repetitions of related facts, for example,
would give rise to so firm an association, that no
further repetition would increase it.
I consider this explanation a very sound one in
principle. It is right to put into association some-
thing more than into experience. I would only
suggest a slight correction in detail It is not
the association forged by repetition which has
this virtue of conveying the idea of necessity and
universality, it is simply the uncontradicted asso-
ciation. It has been objected, in fact, and with
reason, to the solution of Mill, that it insists
on a long duration of experience, while axioms
appear to be of an irresistible and universal
truthfulness the moment they are conceived.
And this is quite just. I should prefer to lay
down as a law that every representation appears
true, and that every link appears necessary and
universal as soon as it is formed. This is its
character from the first. It preserves it so long
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 117
as no contradiction in fact, in reasoning, or in
idea, comes to destroy it. 1
What seems to stand out most clearly after all
these explanations is the role which we ought to
attribute to the consciousness. Two rival theories
have been maintained: that of the mirror-con-
sciousness and that of the focus -consciousness.
It would seem — I merely say it would seem —
that the first of these best harmonises with the
preceding facts. For what seems most probable
is, that the consciousness illuminates and reveals
but does not act. The theory of the focus-con-
sciousness adapts itself less to the mechanism of
the association of ideas.
From this we come quite naturally to see in
the intelligence only an inactive consciousness ; at
one moment it apprehends an object, and it is a
perception or an idea ; at another time it perceives
a connection, and it is a judgment ; at yet another,
it perceives connections between connections, and
it is an act of reason. But however subtle the
object it contemplates may become, it does not
depart from its contemplative attitude, and cog-
nition is but a consciousness.
One step further, and we should get so far as to
1 We think spontaneously of the general and the necessary.
It is this which serves as a basis for the suggestion and the
catchword {ridame), and it explains how minds of slender
culture always tend towards absolute assertions and hasty
generalisations.
n8 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
admit that the consciousness serves no purpose
whatever, and that it is a useless luxury, since, if
all efficacious virtue is to be found in the sensa-
tions and the ideas which we consider as material
facts, the consciousness which reveals them adds
nothing to, takes nothing from, and modifies
nothing in them; and everything would go on
the same, nor would anything in this world be
changed, if one day the light of consciousness
were, by chance, to be put out. We might
imagine a collection of automatons forming a
human society as complicated as, and not different
in appearance from, that of conscious beings;
these automatons would make the same gestures,
utter the same words as ourselves, would dispute,
complain, cry, and make love like us ; we might
even imagine them capable, like us, of psychology.
This is the thesis of the epiphenomenal con-
sciousness which Huxley has boldly carried to its
uttermost conclusions.
I indicate here these possible conclusions, with-
out discussing them. It is a question I prefer to
leave in suspense; it seems to me that one can
do nothing on this subject but form hypotheses.
CHAPTER VII
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS — THE SEPA-
RABILITY OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS FROM ITS
OBJECT— DISCUSSION OF IDEALISM
One last question suggests itself with regard to
the consciousness. In what measure is it separable
from the object ? Do the consciousness and its
object form two things or only one ?
Under observation these two terms constantly
show themselves united. We experience a sensa-
tion and have consciousness of it; it is the same
fact expressed in two different ways. All facts of
our perception thus present themselves, and they
are one. But our reason may outstrip our observa-
tion. We are able to make a distinction between
the two elements being and being perceived. This
is not an experimental but an ideological distinc-
tion, and an abstraction that language makes easy.
Can we go further, and suppose one of the parts
thus analysed capable of existing without the
other? Can sensation exist as physical expression,
as an object, without being illuminated by the
consciousness ? Can the consciousness exist with-
out having an object ?
"9
120 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Let us first speak of the existence of the
object when considered as separated from the
consciousness. The problem is highly compli-
cated.
It has sometimes been connected with the
idealist thesis according to which the object of
consciousness, being itself a modality of the con-
sciousness, cannot exist apart from it — that is to
say, outside the periods in which it is perceived.
It would therefore result from this that this
separation between existence and perception might
be made, when it is admitted (contrary to the
idealist hypothesis) that the object perceived is
material and the consciousness which perceives it
mental. In this case, it will be thought, there
is no link of solidarity between the consciousness
and its continuity. But I am not of that opinion.
The union of the consciousness and its object is
one of fact, which presents itself outside any
hypothesis on the nature of the object It is
observation which demonstrates to us that we
must perceive an object to be assured of its exist-
ence ; the reason, moreover, confirms the necessity
of this condition, which remains true whatever
may be the "stuff" of the object.
Having stated this, the question is simply to
know whether this observation of fact should be
generalised or not. We may, it seems to me,
decline to generalise it without falling into a
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 121
contradiction in terms. It may be conceived that
the objects which we are looking at continue to
exist, without change, during the moments when
we have lost sight of them. This seems reasonable
enough, and is the opinion of " common " sense. 1
The English philosophers, Bain and Mill, have
combated this proposition with extraordinary
ardour, like believers combating a heresy. But
notwithstanding their attacks it remains intelli-
gible, and the distinction between being and being
perceived preserves its logical legitimacy. This
may be represented, or may be thought ; but can
it be realised ?
So far as regards external objects, I think we all,
in fact, admit it. We all admit a distinction be-
tween the existence of the outer world and the
perception we have of it; its existence is one
thing, and our perception of it is another. The
existence of the world continues without inter-
ruption ; our perception is continually interrupted
by the most fortuitous causes, such as change
of position, or even the blinking of the eyes;
its existence is general, universal, independent
of time and space; our perception is partial,
particular, local, limited by the horizon of our
senses, determined by the geographical position of
our bodies, riddled by the distractions of our
intelligence, deceived by the illusions of our minds,
1 That is to say, the sense of the multitude.— Ed.
122 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
and above all diminished by the infirmity of our
intelligence, which is able to comprehend so little
of what it perceives. This is what we all admit
in practice ; the smallest of our acts implies the
belief in something perceptible which is wider and
more durable than our astonished perceptions. I
could not write these lines unless I implicitly
supposed that my inkstand, my paper, my pen,
my room, and the surrounding world subsist when
I do not see them. It is a postulate of practical
life. It is also a postulate of science, which
requires for its explanations of phenomena the
supposition in them of an indwelling continuity.
Natural science would become unintelligible if we
were forced to suppose that with every eclipse of
our perceptions material actions were suspended.
There would be beginnings without sequences,
and ends without beginnings.
Let us note also that acquired notions on the
working of our nervous system allow us to give
this postulate a most precise form : the external
object is distinct from the nervous system and
from the phenomena of perception which are
produced when the nervous system is excited ; it
is therefore very easy to understand that this
object continues to exist and to develop its
properties, even when no brain vibrates in its
neighbourhood.
Might we not, with the view of strengthening
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 123
this conclusion as to the continuous existence of
things, dispense with this postulate, which seems
to have the character of a grace, of an alms
granted to us? Might not this continuous exis-
tence of objects during the eclipses ot our acts
of consciousness, be demonstrated? It does not
seem to me impossible. Let us suppose for a
moment the correctness of the idealist thesis : all
our legitimate knowledge of objects is contained
within the narrow limits of actual sensation ; then,
we may ask, of what use is the reason ? What is the
use of the memory ? These functions have precisely
for their object the enlarging of the sphere of our
sensations, which is limited in two principal ways,
by time and by space. Thanks to the reason, we
manage to see in some way that which our senses
are unable to perceive, either because it is too
distant from us, or because there are obstacles
between us and the object, or because it is a past
event or an event which has not yet taken place
which is in question.
That the reason may be deceived is agreed.
But will it be asserted that it is always deceived ?
Shall we go so far as to believe that this is
an illegitimate mode of cognition ? The idealist
thesis, if consistent, cannot refuse to extend itself
to this extreme conclusion; for a reasoned con-
clusion contains, when it has a meaning, a
certain assertion on the order of nature, and this
124 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
assertion is not a perception, since its precise
object is to fill up the gaps in our perceptions.
Not being a perception, it must be rejected, if one
is an idealist.
The idealist will therefore keep strictly to the
perception of the moment, and this is so small a
thing when deprived of all the conjectures which
enrich it, that the "world, if reduced to this alone,
would be but the skeleton of a world. There
would then be no more science, no possibility of
knowledge. But who could make up his mind
thus to shut himself up in perception ?
I suppose, indeed, that there will here be quib-
bling. This objection will be made : that in the
hypothesis of a discontinuous existence of things,
reason may continue to do its work, provided the
intervention of a possible perception be supposed
Thus, I notice this morning, on going into my
garden, that the pond which was dry yesterday is
full of water. I conclude from this, " It has rained
in the night." To be consistent with idealism,
one must simply add : " If some one had been in
the garden last night, he would have seen it rain."
In this manner one must re-establish every time
the rights of perception.
Be it so. But let us notice that this addition
has no more importance than a prescribed formula
in a notarial act ; for instance, the presence of a
second notary prescribed by the law, but always
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 125
dispensed with in practice. This prescribed
formula can always be imagined or even under-
stood. We shall be in accord with idealism by
the use of this easy little formula, "If some
one had been there," or even by saying, "For
a universal consciousness. . . ." The difference of
the realist and idealist theory becomes then purely
verbal This amounts to saying that it disappears.
But there is always much verbalism in idealism.
One more objection : if this witness — the con-
sciousness — suffices to give objects a continuity
of existence, we may content ourselves with a
less important witness. Why a man ? The eyes
of a mollusc would suffice, or those of infusoria, or
even of a particle of protoplasm: living matter
would become a condition of the existence of
dead matter. This, we must acknowledge, is a
singular condition, and this conclusion condemns
the doctrine.
CHAPTER VIII
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS — THE SEPARA-
TION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS FROM ITS OBJECT
— THE UNCONSCIOUS
I ask myself whether it is possible, by going
further along this road of the separation between
the consciousness and its object, to admit that
ideas may subsist during the periods when we
are not conscious of them. It is the problem of
unconsciousness that I am here stating.
One of the most simple processes of reasoning
consists in treating ideas in the same manner
as we have treated the external objects. We
have admitted that the consciousness is a thing
superadded to the external objects, like the light
which lights up a landscape, but does not con-
stitute it and may be extinguished without de-
stroying it. We continue the same interpretation
by saying that ideas prolong their existence while
they are not being thought, in the same way and
for the same motive that material bodies continue
theirs while they are not being perceived. All
that it seems permissible to say is that this con-
ception is not unrealisable.
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 127
Let us now place ourselves at the point of view
of the consciousness. We have supposed up to the
present the suppression of the consciousness, and
have seen that we can still imagine the object
continuing to exist. Is the converse possible?
Let us suppose that the object is suppressed. Can
the consciousness then continue to exist ? On this
last point it seems that doubt is not possible, and
we must answer in the negative. A consciousness
without an object, an empty consciousness, in
consequence, cannot be conceived ; it would be a
zero — a pure nothingness; it could not manifest
itself. We might admit, in strictness, that such
a consciousness might exist virtually as a power
which is not exercised, a reserve, a potentiality,
or a possibility of being ; but we cannot compre-
hend that this power can realise or actualise itself.
There is therefore no actual consciousness without
an object
The problem we have just raised, that of the
separability of the elements which compose an
act of consciousness, is continued by another
problem — that of unconsciousness. It is almost
the same problem, for to ask one's self what
becomes of a known thing when we separate from
it the consciousness which at first accompanied
it, is to ask one's self in what an unconscious
phenomenon consists.
We have, till now, considered the two principal
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DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 129
sciousness is a magnitude capable of increase
and decrease, like sensation itself. According to
the individual, consciousness may have a very
large or a very small field, and may embrace at the
same time a variable number of objects. I can
pay attention to several things at the same time,
but when I am tired it becomes more difficult to
me. I lose in extension, or, as is still said, the
field of consciousness is restricted. It may also
lose not only in extent of surface, but in depth.
We have all of us observed in our own selves
moments of obscure consciousness when we under-
stand dimly, and moments of luminous conscious-
ness which carry one almost to the very bottom of
things. It is difficult to consider those in the
wrong who admit, with Leibnitz, the existence of
small states of consciousness. The lessening of
the consciousness is already our means of under-
standing the unconscious; unconsciousness is the
limit of this reduction. 1
This singular fact has also been noticed, that, in
the same individual there may co-exist several
kinds of consciousness which do not enter into
communication with each other and which are not
acquainted with each other. There is a princi-
pal consciousness which speaks, and, in addition,
1 I think I have come across in Abistotlb the ingenious idea
that the enf eeblement of the consciousness and its disorder may
be due to the enf eeblement and disorder of the object. It is a
theory which is by no means improbable.
I
130 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
accessory kinds of consciousness which do not
speak, but reveal their existence by the use of
other modes of expression, of which the most
frequent is writing.
This doubling or fractionation of the conscious-
ness and personality have often been described
in the case of hysterical subjects. They sometimes
occur quite spontaneously, but mostly they require
a little suggestion and cultivation. In any case,
that they are produced in one way or other proves
that they are possible, and, for the theory, this
possibility is essential. Facts of this kind do not
lead to a theory of the unconscious, but they
enable us to understand how certain phenomena,
unconscious in appearance, are conscious to them-
selves, because they belong to states of consciousness
which have been separated from each other.
A third thesis, more difficult of comprehension
than the other two, supposes that the conscious-
ness may be preserved in an unconscious form.
This is difficult to admit, because unconsciousness
is the negation of consciousness. It is like saying
that light can be preserved when darkness is pro-
duced, or that an object still exists when, by the
hypothesis, it has been radically destroyed. This
idea conveys no intelligible meaning, and there is
no need to dwell on it.
We have not yet exhausted all the concepts
whereby we may get to unconsciousness. Here is
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 131
another, the last I shall quote, without, however,
claiming that it is the last which exists. We
might call it the physiological concept, for it is
the one which the physiologists employ for choice.
It is based upon the observation of the phenomena
which are produced in the nervous system during
our acts of consciousness; these phenomena
precede consciousness as a rule, and condition
it. According to a convenient figure which has
been long in use, the relations of the physio-
logical phenomenon to the consciousness are
represented as follows: the physiological pheno-
menon consists in an excitement which, at one
time, follows a direct and short route from the
door by which it enters the nervous system to
the door by which it makes its exit. In this
case, it works like a simple mechanical pheno-
menon ; but sometimes it makes a longer journey,
and takes a circuitous road by which it passes
into the higher nerve centres, and it is at the
moment when it takes this circuitous road that
the phenomenon of consciousness is produced.
The use of this figure does not prejudge any
important question.
Going further, many contemporary authors
do not content themselves with the proposition
that the consciousness is conditioned by the
nervous phenomenon, but suggest also that it is
continually accompanied by it. Every psychical
132 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
fact of perception, of emotion, or of idea should
have, it is supposed, a physiological basis. It
would therefore be, taken in its entirety, psycho-
physiological. This is called the parallelist theory.
We cannot discuss this here, as we shall meet
with it again in the third part of this book. It
has the advantage of leading to a very simple
definition of unconsciousness. The unconscious
is that which is purely physiological We repre-
sent to ourselves the mechanical part of the total
phenomenon continuing to produce itself, in the
absence of the consciousness, as if this last con-
tinued to follow and illuminate it.
Such are the principal conceptions that may be
formed of the unconscious. They are probably not
the only ones, and our list is not exhaustive.
After having indicated what the unconscious is,
we will terminate by pointing out what it is not
and what it cannot be.
We think, or at least we have impliedly supposed
in the preceding definitions, that the unconscious
is only something unknown, which may have been
known, or which might become known under
certain conditions, and which only differs from
the known by the one characteristic of not being
actually known. If this notion be correct, one
has really not the right to arm this unconscious-
ness with formidable powers. It has the power
of the reality to which it corresponds, but its
DEFINITION OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS 133
character of unconsciousness adds nothing to this.
It is the same with it as with the science of the
future. No scholar will hesitate to admit that
that science will be deeper and more refined
than that already formed. But it is not from
the fact that it is unknown that it will deserve
its superiority: it is from the phenomena that
it will embrace. To give to that which is
unconscious, as we here understand it, an over-
whelming superiority over the conscious as such,
we must ^dmit that the consciousness is not only
a useless luxury, but the dethronement of the
forces that it accompanies.
In the next place, I decline to admit that the
consciousness itself can become unconscious, and
yet continue in some way under an unconscious
form. This would be, in my opinion, bringing
together two conceptions which contradict each
other, and thus denying after having affirmed.
From the moment that the consciousness dies,
there remains nothing of it, unless it be the condi-
tions of its appearance, conditions which are distinct
from itself. Between two moments of conscious-
ness separated by time or by a state of unconscious-
ness, there does not and cannot exist any link.
I feel incapable of imagining of what this link
could be composed, unless it were material — that
is to say, unless it were supplied from the class
of objects. I have already said that the sub-
134 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
stantialist thesis endeavours to establish a con-
tinuity between one consciousness and another
separated by time, by supposing a something
durable, of which the consciousness would be
a property of intermittent manifestation. They
would thus explain the interruptions of con-
sciousness as the interruptions in the light of a
lamp. When the light is extinguished, the lamp
remains in darkness, but is still capable of being
lighted. Let us discard this metaphor, which
may lead to illusion. The concept of conscious-
ness can furnish no link and no mental state
which remains when the consciousness is not
made real; if this link exists, it is in the per-
manence of the material objects and of the
nervous organism which allows the return of
analogous conditions of matter.
CHAPTER IX
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY
Let us resume the study of the preceding ideas
in another form. Since, moreover, to define mind
is at the same time to define psychology, let us
seek for the truth which we can glean from the
definitions of this science. Our object is not to
discover an exact definition, but to make use of
those already existing.
To define psychology is to describe the features
of the domain <Jver which this science holds sway,
and at the same time to indicate the boundaries
which separate it from its neighbours. At first
sight this is an affair of geometric survey, pre-
senting no kind of difficulty ; for psychology does
not merge by insensible transitions into the neigh-
bouring sciences, as physics does with chemistry,
for example, or chemistry with biology.
To all the sciences of external nature psycho-
logy offers the violent opposition of the moral
to the physical world. It cannot be put in
line with the physical sciences. It occupies, on
the contrary, a position apart It is the starting
point, the most abstract and simple of the moral
135
136 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
sciences; and it bears the same relation to them
that mechanics does to the physical.
All this is doubtless true ; and yet a very
great difficulty has been experienced in condensing
into a clear definition the essence of psychology.
This is proved by the multiplicity of definitions
attempted. They are so many because none of
them has proved completely satisfactory. Their
abundance .shows their insufficiency. I will try
to introduce a little order into these attempts,
and propose to distribute the definitions of psy-
chology into the following categories: —
1. The definition by substance ; the metaphy-
sical definition par excellence.
2. The definition by enumeration.
3. „ „ method.
4. „ „ degree of certainty.
5. „ „ content.
6. „ „ point of view.
7. „ „ the peculiar nature of men-
tal laws.
We will rapidly run through this series of efforts
at definition, and shall criticise and reject nearly
the whole of them; for the last alone seems
exact — that is to say, in harmony with the ideas
laid down above.
Metaphysical definition has to-day taken a
slightly archaistic turn. Psychology used to be
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 137
considered as the science of the soul. This is
quite abandoned. Modern authors have adopted
the expression and also the idea of Lange, 1 who
was, I think, the first to declare that we ought
to cultivate a soulless psychology. This cate-
gorical declaration caused an uproar, and a few
ill-informed persons interpreted it to mean that
the new psychology which has spread in France
under cover of the name of Ribot, sought to deny
the existence of the soul, and was calculated to
incline towards materialism. This is an error.
It is very possible, indeed, that several adepts
of the new or experimental psychology may be
materialists from inward conviction. The exclu-
sive cultivation of external facts, of phenomena
termed material, evidently tends — this is a mys-
tery to none — to incline the mind towards the
metaphysical doctrine of materialism. But, after
making this avowal, it is right to add at once
that psychology, as a science of facts, is the
vassal of no metaphysical doctrine. It is neither
spiritualist, materialist, nor monist, but a science
of facts solely. Ribot and his pupils have pro-
claimed this aloud at every opportunity. Con-
sequently it must be recognised that the rather
amphibological expression "soulless psychology"
implies no negation of the existence of the soul.
It is — and this is quite a different thing — rather
1 LANGB, HisUnrt du Mattrialitme, II., 2me. partie, chap. iii.
138 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
an attitude of reserve in regard to this problem.
We do not solve this problem; we put it on
one side.
And, certainly, we are right to do so. The
soul, viewed as a substance — that is, as a some-
thing distinct from psychical phenomena, which,
while being their cause and support, yet remains
inaccessible to our direct means of cognition — is
only an hypothesis, and it cannot serve as objec-
tive to a science of facts. This would imply a
contradiction in terms.
Unfortunately, we must confess that if it be
right to relegate to metaphysics the discussion
on the concept of the soul, it does not really
suffice to purge our minds of all metaphysics;
and a person who believes himself to be a
simple and strict experimentalist is often a
metaphysician without knowing it. These ex-
communications of metaphysics also seem rather ,
childish at the present day. There is less risk
than some years ago in declaring that: "Here
metaphysics commence and positive science
ends, and I will go no further." There is even
a tendency in modern psychologists to interest
themselves in the highest philosophical problems,
and to take up a certain position with regard to
them.
The second kind of definition is, we have said,
that by enumeration. It consists in placing before
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 139
the eyes of the reader an assortment of psycho-
logical phenomena and then saying: "These are
the things psychology studies." One will take
readily as samples the ideas, reasonings, emotions,
and other manifestations of mental life. If this
is only a strictly provisional definition, a simple
introduction to the subject, we accept it liter-
ally. It may serve to give us a first impression
of things, and to refresh the memories of those
who, by a rather extraordinary chance, would
not doubt that psychology studies our thoughts.
But whatever may be the number of these deeply
ignorant persons, they constitute, I think, a
negligible quantity; and, after these prelimin-
aries, we must come to a real definition and not
juggle with the problem, which consists in in-
dicating in what the spiritual is distinguished
from the material Let us leave on one side,
therefore, the definitions by enumeration.
Now comes the definition by method. Numbers
of authors have supposed that it is by its method
that psychology is distinguished from the other
sciences.
To the mind is attached the idea of the within,
to nature the idea of being without the mind, of
constituting a "without" (un dehors). It is a
vague idea, but becomes precise in a good many
metaphors, and has given rise to several forms
of speech. Since the days of Locke, we have
140 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
always spoken of the internal life of the mind
as contrasted with the external life, of subjective
reality as contrasted with objective reality; and
in the same way we oppose the external senses
to the inner sense (the internal perception), which
it has at times been proposed to erect into a sixth
sense. Though no longer quite the Cartesian
dualism, this is still a dualism.
It has also been said that psychology is the
science of introspection, and, in addition, that
scientific psychology is a controlled introspection.
This science of the " internal facts of man " would
thus be distinguished from the other natural
sciences which are formed by the use of our outer
senses, by external observation — that is to say, to
use a neologism, by externospection. This verbal
symmetry may satisfy for a moment minds given
to words, but on reflection it is perceived that the
distinction between introspection and externo-
spection does not correspond to a fundamental
and constant difference in the nature of things
or in the processes of cognition. I acknow-
ledge it with some regret, and thus place
myself in contradiction with myself; for I for
a long time believed, and have even said in
print, that psychology is the science of introspec-
tion. My error arose from my having made too
many analyses of detail, and not having mounted
to a sufficiently wide-reaching conception.
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 141
The definition I have given of consciousness is
the implied condemnation of the above ideas.
Consciousness, being nothing but an act of revela-
tion, has neither a within n9r a without ; it does
not correspond to a special domain which would
be an inner one with regard to another domain.
Every consideration on the position of things is
borrowed from the sphere of the object, and re-
mains foreign to the sphere of the consciousness.
It is by an abuse of language that we speak of
the outer world in relation to the world of
consciousness, and it is pure imagination on the
part of philosophers to have supposed that our
sensations are first perceived as internal states
and states of consciousness, and are subsequently
projected without to form the outer world. The
notion of internal and external is only understood
for certain objects which we compare by position
to certain others.
In fact, we find that the opposition between
an external and an internal series is generally
founded on two characteristics: sensation is
considered external in relation to the idea,
and an object of cognition is considered as
internal when it is accessible only to ourselves.
When these two characteristics are isolated from
each other, one may have doubts ; but when they
co-exist, then the outwardness or inwardness ap-
pears fully evidenced. We see then that this
142 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
distinction has nothing to do with the value of
consciousness, and has nothing mental about it.
It is thus that our ideas are judged from in-
ternal events. It is our microcosm opposed to the
macrocosm. It is the individual opposed to the
social. Looking at an external object, we remain
in communion with our fellows, for we receive,
or think we receive, identical sensations. At all
events, we receive corresponding sensations. On
the other hand, my thought is mine, and is known
to me alone ; it is my sanctuary, my private closet,
where others do not enter. Every one can see
what I see, but no one knows what I think.
But this difference in the accessibility of pheno-
mena is not due to their peculiar nature. It is
connected with a different fact, with the modes of
excitement which call them forth. If the visual
sensation is common to all, it is because the ex-
citing cause of the sensation is an object external
to our nervous systems, and acting at a distance
on all. 1 The tactile sensation is at the beginning
more personal to the one who experiences it, since
it requires contact; and the lower sensations are
in this intimacy still in progress. And then, the
1 Let us remark, in passing, how badly nature has organised
the system of communication between thinking beings. In what
we experience we have nothing in common with oar fellows ;
each one experiences his own sensations and not those of others.
The only meeting point of different minds is found in the inac-
cessible domain of the noumcna.
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 143
same object can give rise, in common-place cir-
cumstances, to a sensation either common to all
beings or special to one alone. The capsule of
antipyrine which I swallow is, before my doing so,
visible to all eyes ; once in my mouth, I am the
only one to perceive it. It is therefore possible
that the same sensation, according to the displace-
ments of the object which excites it, may make
part of the internal or of the external series ; and
as all psychic life is sensation, even effort, and,
as we are assured, emotion, it follows that our
argument extends to all the psychical elements.
Finally, the internal or external character of
events, which might be called their geographical
position, is a characteristic which has no influence
upon the method destined to take cognisance of
it. The method remains one. Introspection does
not represent a source of cognition distinct from
externospection, for the same faculties of the
mind — reason, attention, and reflection — act on
sensation, the source of the so-called external
sciences, and on the idea, the source of the so-
called inner science. A fact can be studied by
essentially the same process, whether regarded
by the eyes or depicted by the memory. The
consciousness changes its object and orientation,
not its nature. It is as if, with the same opera-
glass, we looked in turn at the wall of the room
and through the window.
144 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
I can even quote on this point a significant
fact: there are observers who are organised in
such a way that they especially observe by
memory. Placed before the sensorial phenome-
non which strikes their senses, they are sometimes
amazed, as if hypnotised ; they require to get away
from it to regain consciousness of themselves, to
analyse the fact, and to master it, and it is by
means of the memory that they study it, on
condition, of course, of afterwards coming back
to verify their conclusions by a fresh observation
from nature. Will it be said that the physicist,
the chemist, or the biologist who follows this
slow method, and who thus observes retroactively,
practises physics and biology by introspection?
Evidently this would be ridiculous.
Conversely, introspection may, in certain cases,
adopt the procedure of externospection. No doubt
it would be inexact to say that the perception
of one of our ideas always takes place through
the same mechanism as the perception of one
of our sensations. To give an account of what we
think does not imply the same work as in the case
of what we see ; for, generally, our thoughts and
our images do not appear to us spontaneously.
They are first sought for by us, and are only
realised after having been wished for. We go
from the vague to the precise, from the confused
to the clear: the direction of thought precedes,
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 145
then, its realisation in images; and the latter,
being expected, is necessarily comprehended when
it is formed. But we may come across curious
circumstances in which it is the image which has
precedence over its appearance, and in that case it
is exact to say that this uninvoked image must
be interpreted and recognised as if it were an
external object. In cases of this kind, there passes
through our mind something which surprises us.
I see, by internal vision, a face with a red nose,
and I have to search my memory for a long
time, even for days, in order to give precision to
the vague feeling that I have seen it before, so
as to finally say with confidence, "It is So and
So ! " Or else I hear in my inner ear a certain
voice, with a metallic tone and authoritative in-
flections : this voice pronounces scientific phrases,
gives a series of lectures, but I know not to whom
it belongs, and it costs me a long effort to reach
the interpretation : it is the voice of M. Dastre !
There is, then, a certain space of time, more or
less long, in which we can correctly assert that
we are not aware of what we are thinking; we
are in the presence of a thought in the same
state of uncertainty as in that of an external,
unknown, and novel object The labour of classi-
fication and of interpretation cast upon us is of
the same order ; and, when this labour is effected
incorrectly, it may end in an illusion. Therefore
K
146 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
illusions of thought are quite as possible as illu-
sions of the senses, though rarer for the reasons
above stated. But the question of frequency has
no theoretical importance.
I have shown elsewhere, by experiments on
hysterics, that it is possible by the intermediary
of their insensibility to touch to suggest ideas on
the value of which the patients make mistakes.
For instance, you take the finger in which they
have no sensation, you touch it, you bend it. The
patient, not seeing what is done, does not feel it,
but the tactile sensation unfelt by their principal
consciousness somehow awakes the visual image
of the finger; this enters into the field of conscious-
ness, and most often is not recognised by the
subject, who describes the occurrence in his own
way; he claims, for instance, that he thinks of
sticks or of columns. In reality he does not know
of what he is thinking, and we know better than
he. He is thinking of his finger, and does not
recognise it.
All these examples show that the clearly defined
characteristics into which it is sought to divide
extrospection and introspection do not exist.
There is, however, a reason for preserving the
distinction, because it presents a real interest for
the psychology of the individual. These two
words introspection and extrospection admirably
convey the difference in the manner of thinking
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 147
between those who from preference look, and
those who from preference reflect. On the one
hand, the observers, who are often men of action ;
on the other, the speculators, who are often
mystics. But it would be no more legitimate by
this means to separate psychology and physics
than to say, for instance, " There are two kinds of
geology : one is the geology of France, for one is
acquainted with it without going from home, and
the other is that of the rest of the world, because
in order to know it one must cross the frontier."
We reject, therefore, the definition drawn from
the difference of method. At bottom there is no
difference of method, but only differences of pro-
cess, of technique. The method is always the
same, for it is derived from the application of a
certain number of laws to the objects of cognition,
and these laws remain the same in all spheres of
application.
Here is another difference of method which, if
it were true, would have an incalculable import-
ance. Psychology, we are told, is a science of
direct and immediate experiment ; it studies facts
as they present themselves to our consciousness,
while the natural sciences are sciences of in-
direct and mediate experiment, for they are
compelled to interpret the facts of consciousness
and draw from them conclusions on nature. It
has also been said, in a more ambitious formula,
148 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
" The science of physical objects is relative ; psycho-
logical science is absolute."
Let us examine this by the rapid analysis of any
perception taken at haphazard. What I perceive
directly, immediately, we are told, is not the
object, it is my state of consciousness ; the object
is inferred, concluded, and taken cognisance of
through the intermediary of my state of con-
sciousness. We only know it, says Lotze, circa
rem. It is therefore apprehended less immedi-
ately, and every natural science employs a more
roundabout method than that of psychology.
This last, by studying states of consciousness,
which alone are known to us directly, compre-
hends reality itself, absolute reality. "There is
more absolute reality," M. Rabier boldly says, " in
the simple feeling that a man, or even an animal,
has of its pain when beaten than in all the
theories of physics, for, beyond these theories,
it can be asked, what are the things that exist.
But it is an absurdity to ask one's self if, beyond
the pain of which one is conscious, there be not
another pain different from that one." 1
Let us excuse in psychologists this petty and
common whim for exaggerating the merit of the
science they pursue. But here the limit is really
passed, and no scholar will admit that the percep-
tion and representation of a body, as it may take
1 E. Rabier, Leyms de Philo$ophU, " Psychologic," p. 33.
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 149
place in the brain of a Berthelot, can present any
inferiority as a cognition of the absolute, to the
pain felt by the snail I crush under my foot.
Nobody except metaphysicians will acknowledge
that psychology is a more precise and certain
science than physics or chemistry.
The criterion furnished by the development of
the respective sciences would prove just the con-
trary. The observations of psychology are always
rather imprecise. Psychological phenomena, not-
withstanding the efforts of Fechner and his school,
are not yet measured with the same strictness and
ease as the tangible reality. To speak plainly, the
psychologist who vaunts the superiority of his
method, and only shows inferior results, places
himself in a somewhat ridiculous and contradic-
tory position; he deserves to be compared to
those spiritualists who claim the power of evok-
ing the souls of the illustrious dead and only
get from them platitudes.
In the main the arguments of the meta-
physicians given above appear to me to contain
a grave error. This consists in supposing that
the natural sciences study the reality hidden
beneath sensation, and only make use of this
fact as of a sign which enables them to get
back from effect to cause. This is quite
inexact. That the natural sciences are limited
by sensation is true ; but they do not go
150 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
outside it, they effect their constructions with
sensation alone. And the reason is very simple :
it is the only thing they know. To the meta-
physical psychologist, who claims sensation as
his own property, saying, "But this sensation
is a state of my consciousness, it is mine, it is
myself," the physicist has the right to answer : " I
beg your pardon! this sensation is the external
object that I am studying; it is my column of
mercury, my spring, my precipitate, my amoeba ; I
comprehend these objects directly, and I want no
other." Psychology finds itself, therefore, exactly
on the same footing as the other sciences in the
degree in which it studies sensations that it
considers as its own property. I have already
said that the sensations proper to psychology
are hardly represented otherwise than by the
emotional sensations produced by the storms in
the apparatus of organic life.
We now come to the definitions by content.
They have been numerous, but we shall only
quote a few. The most usual consists in saying,
that Psychology studies the facts of consciousness.
This formula passes, in general, as satisfactory.
The little objection raised against it is, that it
excludes the unconscious facts which play so im-
portant a part in explaining the totality of mental
life; but it only requires some usual phrase to
repair this omission. One might add, for in-
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 151
stance, to the above formula : conscious facts and
those which, while unconscious under certain con-
ditions, are yet conscious in others.
This is not, however, the main difficulty, which is
far more serious. On close examination, it is seen
that the term, fact of coTisciotusness, is very elastic,
and that for a reason easy to state. This is, that
all facts which exist and are revealed to us reach
us by the testimony of the consciousness, and are,
consequently, facts of consciousness. If I look at
a locomotive, and analyse its machinery, I act
like a mechanic ; if I study under the microscope
the structure of infusoria, I practise biology ; and
yet the sight of the locomotive, the perception of
the infusoria, are just facts of consciousness, and
should belong to psychology, if one takes literally
the above definition, which is so absolute that
it absorbs the entire world into the science of
the mind. It might, indeed, be remarked that
certain phenomena would remain strictly psycho-
logical, such as, for instance, the emotions, the
study of which would not be disputed by any
physical science ; for the world of nature offers
us nothing comparable to an emotion or an effort
of will, while, on the other hand, everything
which is the object of physical science — that is,
everything which can be perceived by our ex-
ternal senses — may be claimed by psychology.
Therefore, it is very evident the above definition
152 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
is much too wide, and does not agree with solo
definite It does not succeed in disengaging the
essential characteristic of physics. This charac-
teristic indeed exists, and we foresee it, but we
do not formulate it.
Another definition by content has not been
much more happy. To separate the material from
the moral, the conception of Descartes was re-
membered, and we were told that : " Psychology
is the science of what exists only in time, while
physics is the science of what exists at once in
time and in space."
To this theoretical reasoning it might already
be objected that, in fact, and in the life we lead,
we never cease to localise in space, though some-
what vaguely, our thought, our Ego, and our in-
tellectual whole. At this moment I am consider-
ing myself, and taking myself as an example. I am
writing these lines in my study, and no metaphy-
sical argument can cause me to abandon my firm
conviction that my intellectual whole is in this
room, on the second floor of my house at Meudon.
I am here, and not elsewhere. My body is here ;
and my soul, if I have one, is here. I am where
my body is ; I believe even that I am within my
body.
This localisation, which certainly has not the
exactness nor even the characteristics of the
localisation of a material body in space, seems to
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 153
me to result from the very great importance we
attach to the existence of our body in perception
and in movement. Our body accompanies all our
perceptions; its changes of position cause these
perceptions to vary ; the accidents which happen
to it bring us pleasure or pain. Some of its move-
ments are under our orders; we observe that
others are the consequences of our thoughts and
our emotions. It occupies, therefore, among the
objects of cognition a privileged place, which
renders it more intimate and more dear to us
than other objects. There is no need to inquire
here whether, in absolute reality, I am lodged
within it, for this "I" is an artificial product
manufactured from memories. I have before
explained what is the value of the relation
subject-object. It is indisputable that in the
manufacture of the subject we bring in the body.
This is too important an element for it not to
have the right to form part of the synthesis ; it
is really its nucleus. As, on the other hand, all
the other elements of the synthesis are psychical,
invisible, and reduced to being faculties and
powers, it may be convenient to consider them as
occupying the centre of the body or of the brain.
There is no need to discuss this synthesis, for it is
one of pure convenience. As well inquire whether
the personality of a public company is really
localised at its registered offices, round the green
154 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
baize cover which adorns the table in the board-
room.
Another definition of psychology, which is
at once a definition by content and a defini-
tion by method, has often been employed by
philosophers and physiologists. It consists in
supposing that there really exist two ways of
arriving at the cognition of objects: the within
and the without. These two ways are as opposed
to each other as the right and wrong side of a
stuff. It is in this sense that psychology is the
science of the within and looks at the wrong side
of the stuff, while the natural sciences look at the
right side. And it is so true, they add, that the
same phenomenon appears under two radically
different forms according as we look at it from
the one or the other point of view. Thus, it is
pointed out to us, every one of our thoughts is
in correlation with a particular state of our cere-
bral matter; our thought is the subjective and
mental face; the corresponding cerebral process
is the objective and material face.
Then the difference between representation,
which is a purely psychological phenomenon, and
a cerebral state which is a material one, and
reducible to movement, is insisted upon; and it
is declared that these two orders of phenomena
are separated by irreducible differences.
Lastly, to take account of the meaning of these
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 155
differences, and to explain them, it is pointed out
that they are probably connected with the modes
of cognition which intervene to comprehend the
mental and the physical. The mental phenomenon,
we are told, is comprehended by itself, and as it is ;
it is known without any mystery, and in its absolute
reality. The physical phenomenon, on the contrary,
only reaches us through the intermediary of our
nerves, more or less transformed in consequence by
the handling in transport. It is an indirect cogni-
tion which causes us to comprehend matter; we
have of this last only a relative and apparent
notion, which sufficiently explains how it may
difier from a phenomenon of thought.
I have already had occasion to speak of this
dualism, when we were endeavouring to define sen-
sation. We return to its criticism once more, for
it is a conception which in these days has become
classic ; and it is only by repeatedly attacking it
that it will be possible to demonstrate its error.
To take an example : I look at the plain before me,
and see a flock of sheep pass over it. At the same
time an observer is by my side and is not looking
at the same thing as myself. It is not at the plain
that he looks; it is, I will suppose, within my
brain. Armed with a microscope d, la Jules Verne,
he succeeds in seeing what is passing beneath my
skull, and he notices within my fibres and nerve
cells those phenomena of undulation which phy-
156 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Biologists have hitherto described hypothetically.
This observer notices then, that, while I am look-
ing over the plain, my optic nerve conveys a certain
kind of movements — these are, I suppose, displace-
ments of molecules which execute a complicated
kind of dance. The movement follows the course
of the optic nerve, traverses the chiasma, goes along
the fascia, passes the internal capsule, and finally
arrives at the visual centres of the occipital region.
Here, then, are the two terms of comparison con-
stituted: on the one hand, we have a certain
representation — that is, my own ; and on the other
hand, coinciding with this representation, we have
the dynamic changes in the nerve centres. These
are the two things constituting the right and
wrong side of the stuff. We shall be told : " See
how little similarity there is here ! A representa-
tion is a physical fact, a movement of molecules
a material fact." And further, "If these two
facts are so little like each other, it is because
they reach us by two different routes."
I think both these affirmations equally dis-
putable. Let us begin with the second. Where
does one see that we possess two different sources
of knowledge? Or that we can consider an
object under two different aspects ? Where are
our duplicate organs of the senses, of which the
one is turned inward and the other outward ? In
the example chosen for this discussion, I have
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 157
supposed two persons, each of whom experiences
a visual perception. One looks at one object, the
other at another ; but both are looking with the
same organs of sense, that is, with their eyes. How
is it possible to understand that these eyes can, in
turn, according to the necessity of the moment,
see the two faces, physioal and mental, of the
same object?
They are the two faces of an identical object, is the
answer made to us, because the two visions, although
applied to the same object, are essentially different.
On the one hand is a sensation of displacement, of
movement, of a dance executed by the molecules
of some proteid substance ; on the other hand is a
flock of sheep passing over the plain at a distance
of a hundred metres away.
It seems to me that here also the argument
advanced is not sound. In the first place, it is
essential to notice that not only are the two paths
of cognition identical, but also that the percep-
tions are of the same nature. There is in this no
opposition between the physical and the mental.
What is compared are the two phenomena, which
are both mixed and are physico-mental — physical,
through the object to which they are applied,
mental, through the act of cognition they imply.
To perceive an object in the plain and to
perceive a dynamic state of the brain are two
operations which each imply an act of cognition ;
158 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
and, in addition, the object of this knowledge is as
material in the one as in the other case. A flock
of sheep is matter just as much as my brain.
No doubt, here are objects which differ; my
observer and myself have not the same perception.
I acknowledge, but do not wonder at it. How
could our two perceptions be similar ? I look at
the sheep, and he at the interior of my brain. It
is not astonishing that, looking at such different
objects, we should receive images also different.
Or, again, if this other way of putting it be pre-
ferred, I would say : the individual A looks at the
flock through the intermediary of his nervous
system, while B looks at it through that of two
nervous systems, put as it were end to end (though
not entirely), his own nervous system first, and
then that of A. How, then, could they experience
the same sensation ?
They could only have an identical sensation if
the idea of the ancients were to be upheld, who
understood the external perception of bodies to
result from particles detaching themselves from
their bodies, and after a more or less lengthy
flight, striking and entering into our organs of
sense. 1
Let us imagine, just for a moment, one of our
1 This seems to have been the opinion of Democritns. The
modern doctrine of radiation from the human body, if estab-
lished, would go nearly as far as the supposition in the text.
Up till now, however, it lacks confirmation. — Ed.
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 159
nerves — the optic nerve, for instance — transformed
into a hollow tube, along which the emissions of
miniatures should wend their way. In this case,
evidently, if so strange a disposition were to be
realised, and if. B could see what was flowing in
the optic nerve of A, he would experience a
sensation almost analogous to that of A. When-
ever the latter saw a dog, a sheep, or a shepherd,
B would likewise see in the optic canal minute
dogs, microscopic sheep, and Lilliputian shepherds.
At the cost of such a childish conception, a parity
of content in the sensations of our two spectators
A and B might be supposed. But I will not
dwell on this.
The above considerations seem to me to explain
the difference generally noticed between thought
and the physiological process. It is not a differ-
ence of nature, an opposition of two essences, or
of two worlds — it is simply a difference of object ;
just that which separates my visual perception
of a tree and my visual perception of a dog.
There remains to know in what manner we
understand the relation of these two processes:
this is another problem which we will examine
later.
Since the content does not give us the differ-
entiation we desire, we will abandon the definitions
of psychology by content. What now remains?
The definitions from the point of view. The same
i6o THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
fact may be looked at, like a landscape, from
different points of view, and appears different
with the changes therein. It is so with the
facts we consider psychical, and the autonomy
of psychology would thus be a matter of point of
view.
It has, then, been supposed — and this is a very
important proposition — that the distinctive feature
of psychical facts does not consist in their forming
a class of particular events. On the contrary,
their characteristic is to be studied in their de-
pendency on the persons who bring them about.
This interesting affirmation is not new : it may be
read in the works of Mach, Ktilpe, Mtinsterberg,
and, especially, of Ebbinghaus, from whom I
quote the following lines of quite remarkable
clearness : " Psychology is not distinguished from
sciences like physics and biology, which are
generally and rightly opposed to it, by a
different content, in the way that, for instance,
zoology is distinguished from mineralogy or as-
tronomy. It has the same content, but considers
it from a different point of view and with a
different object. It is the science, not of a given
part of the world, but of the whole world, con-
sidered, however, in a certain relation. It studies,
in the world, those formations, processes, and
relations, the properties of which are essentially
determined by the properties and functions of
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 161
an organism, of an organised individual. . . .
Psychology, in short, considers the world from an
individual and subjective point of view, while the
science of physics studies it as if it were inde-
pendent of us."
Over these definitions by point of view, one
might quibble a little ; for those who thus define
psychology are not always consistent with them-
selves. In other passages of their writings they
do not fail to oppose psychical to physiological
phenomena, and they proclaim the irreducible
heterogeneity of these two orders of phenomena
and the impossibility of seeing in physics the
producing cause of the moral. Ebbinghaus is
certainly one of the modern writers who have
most strongly insisted on this idea of opposition
between the physiological and the psychical, and
he is a convinced dualist. Now I do not very
clearly understand in what the principle of hetero-
geneity can consist to a mind which admits, on
the other hand, that psychology does not differ
from the physical sciences by its content.
However, I confine myself here to criticising
the consequences and not the starting point.
The definition of the psychical phenomenon by
the point of view seems to me correct, although
it has more concision than clearness ; for it rests
especially upon a material metaphor, and the
expression " point of view " hardly applies except
L
162 THE MEND AND THE BRAIN
to the changes of perspective furnished by visible
objects.
It would be more exact to say that psychology
specially studies certain objects of cognition, such
as those which have the character of represen-
tations (reminiscences, ideas, concepts), the emo-
tions, the volitions, and the reciprocal influences
of these objects among themselves. It studies,
then, a part of the material world, of that world
which till now has been called psychological,
because it does not come under the senses, and
because it is subjective and inaccessible to others
than ourselves ; it studies the laws of those objects,
which laws have been termed mental. 1
These laws are not recognised, popularly speak-
ing, either in physics or in biology ; they constitute
for us a cognition apart from that of the natural
world. Association by resemblance, for example,
is a law of consciousness ; it is a psychological law
which has no application nor counterpart in the
world of physics or biology. We may therefore
sum up what has been said by the statement that
1 I am compelled, much against my will, to use throughout
this passage an equivocal expression, that of 44 mental law," or
law of consciousness, or psychological law. I indicate by this
the laws of contiguity and of similarity ; as they result from
the properties of the images, and as these are of a material
nature, they are really physical and material laws like those of
external nature. But how can all these laws be called physical
laws without running the risk of confusing them one with the
other ?
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 163
psychology is the study of a certain number of
laws, relations, and connections.
As to the particular feature which distinguishes
mental from physical laws, we can formulate
it, as does William James, by saying that the
essence of a mental law is to be teleological,
or, if the phrase be preferred, we can say that
mental activity is a finalistic activity, which ex-
pends itself as will in the pursuit of future ends,
and as intelligence in the choice of the means
deemed capable of serving those ends. An act of
intelligence is recognised by the fact of its aiming
at an end, and employing for this end one means
chosen out of many. Finality and intelligence
are thus synonymous. In opposition to mental
law, physical law is mechanical, by which expres-
sion is simply implied the absence of finality.
Finality opposed to mechanism ; such is the most
concise and truest expression in which must be
sought the distinctive attribute of psychology and
of the moral sciences, the essential characteristic
by which psychological are separated from physical
facts.
I think it may be useful to dwell a little on
the mental laws which I have just opposed
to the physical, and whose object is to assure
preadaptation and form a finality. 1 Their im-
1 Finality seems to be here used in the sense of the doctrine
which regards perfection as the final cause of existence. — Ed.
164 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
portance cannot be exaggerated. Thanks to his
power of preadaptation, the being endowed with in-
telligence acquires an enormous advantage over
everything which does not reason. No doubt,
as has been shrewdly remarked, natural selection
resembles a finality, for it ends in an adaptation of
beings to their surroundings. There is therefore,
strictly speaking, such a thing as finality without
intelligence. But the adaptation resulting there-
from is a crude one, and proceeds by the elimina-
tion of all that does not succeed in adapting
itself; it is a butchery. Real finalism saves many
deaths, many sufferings, and many abortions. 1
Let us examine, then, the process of preadapta-
tion ; it will enable us to thoroughly comprehend,
not only the difference between the physical and the
psychical laws, but the reason why the psychical
manages in some fashion to mould itself upon the
physical law.
Now, the means employed by preadaptation is,
if we take the matter in its simplest form, to be
aware of sensations before they are experienced.
If we reflect that all prevision implies a previous
knowledge of the probable trend of events, it
will be understood that the part played by in-
telligence consists in becoming imbued with the
laws of nature, for the purpose of imitating its
1 See a very interesting article by E. Goblot, "La Finalite*
sans Intelligence,' 1 Revue de Mttaphytiqut, July 1900.
i
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 165
workings. By the laws of nature, we understand
here only that order of real sensations, the know-
ledge of which is sufficient to fulfil the wants of
practical life. To us there are always gaps in this
order, because the sensation it is important for us
to know is separated from us either by the barriers
of time or of space, or by the complication of use-
less sensations. Thence the necessity of interpo-
lations. That which we do not perceive directly
by our senses, we are obliged to represent to our-
selves by our intelligence; the image does the
work of sensation, and supplements the halting
sensation in everything which concerns adapta-
tion.
To replace the inaccessible sensation by the cor-
responding image, is therefore to create in ourselves
a representation of the outer world which is, on
all the points most useful to us, more complete
than the direct and sensorial presentation of the
moment. There is in us a power of creation,
and this power exercises itself in the imitation
of the work of nature ; it imitates its order, it
reconstitutes on the small scale adapted to our
minds, the great external order of events. Now,
this work of imitation is only really possible if the
imitator has some means at his disposal analogous
to those of the model.
Our minds could not divine the designs of
nature, if the laws of images had nothing in
166
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
common with the laws of nature. We are thus
led to confront these two orders of laws with each
other ; but, before doing so, one more preliminary
word is necessary. We have up till now some-
what limited the problem, in order to understand it.
We have reduced the psychological being to one
single function, the intellectual, and to one single
object of research, the truth. This is, however, an
error which has often been committed, which is now
known and catalogued, called intellectualism, or
the abuse of intellectualism. It is committed for
this very simple reason, that it is the intellectual
part of our being which best allows itself to be
understood, and, so to speak, intellectualised. But
this leaves out of the question a part of our entire
mental being so important and so eminent, that if
this part be suppressed, the intelligence would
cease to work and would have no more utility
than a machine without motive power. Our
own motive power is the will, the feeling, or the
tendency. Will is perhaps the most characteristic
psychical function, since, as I have already had
occasion to say, nothing analogous to it is met
with in the world of nature. Let us therefore
not separate the will from the intelligence, let
us incarnate them one in the other ; and, instead
of representing the function of the mind as having
for its aim knowledge, foresight, the combination
of means, and self-adaptation, we shall be much
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 167
nearer the truth in representing to ourselves a
being who wills to know, wills to foresee, and
vritts to adapt himself, for, after all, he wills to
live.
Having said this, let us compare the psy-
chological law and that of nature. Are they
identical? We shall be told that they are not,
since, as a fact, errors are committed at every
moment by the sudden failures of human reason.
This is the first idea which arises. Human error,
it would seem, is the best proof that the two laws
in question are not alike, and we will readily
add that a falling stone does not mistake its
way, that the crystal in the course of formation
does not miss taking the crystalline shape, be-
cause they form part of physical nature, and
are subject in consequence to its determinism.
But this is faulty reasoning, and a moment of
reflection demonstrates it in the clearest pos-
sible manner; for adaptation may miss its aim
without the being who adapts himself and his
surroundings necessarily obeying different laws.
When the heat of a too early spring causes buds
to burst forth prematurely which are afterwards
destroyed by frost, there is produced a fault of
adjustment which resembles an error of adap-
tation, and the bringing forward of this error
does not necessarily imply that the tree and the
whole of physical nature are obeying different laws.
168 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Moreover, the difference between the laws of
nature and those of the understanding does not
need deduction by reasoning from an abstract
principle; it is better to say that it is directly
observable, and this is how I find that it pre-
sents itself to us.
The essential law of nature is relatively easy to
formulate, as it is comprised in the very definition
of law. It simply consists in the sentence: uni-
formity under similar conditions. We might also
say: a constant relation between two or several
phenomena, which can also be expressed in a
more abstract way by declaring that the law of
nature rests on the combination of two notions,
identity and constancy.
On the other hand, the laws of our psychical
activity partly correspond to the same tendencies,
and it would be easy to demonstrate that the
microcosm of our thoughts is governed by laws
which are also an expression of these two com-
bined notions of constancy and identity. It is,
above all, in the working of the intellectual
machine, the best known and the most clearly
analysed up till now, that we see the application
of this mental law which resembles, as we say,
on certain sides, the physical law: and the best
we can do for our demonstration will doubtless
be to dissect our reasoning powers. Reason, a
process essential to thought in action, is developed
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 169
in accordance with a law which resembles in
the most curious manner a physical law. It re-
sembles it enough to imitate it, to conform to
it, and, so to speak, to mould itself on it.
Now, the reason does not follow the caprices
of thought, it is subject to rules; it results
from the properties of the images, those pro-
perties which we have above referred to, the
material character of which we have recognised,
and which are two in number — similarity and
contiguity, as they are termed in the jargon
of the schools. They are properties which have
for their aim to bring things together, to unite,
and to synthetise. They are unceasingly at work,
and so apparent in their labour that they
have long been known. We know, since the
time of Aristotle, that two facts perceived at the
same time reproduce themselves together in the
memory — this is the law of contiguity ; and that
two facts perceived separately, but which are
similar, are brought together in our mind — this
is the law of similarity.
Now, similarity and contiguity form by combina-
tion the essential part of all kinds of reasoning, and
this reasoning, thus understood, works in a fashion
which much resembles (we shall see exactly in
what degree) a physical law. I wish to show this
in a few words. What renders my demonstration
difficult and perhaps obscure is, that we shall
170 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
be obliged to bring together rather unexpectedly
categories of phenomena which are generally con-
sidered separate.
The distinctive attribute of the reason consists,
as I have said, in the setting to work of these two
elementary properties, similarity and contiguity.
It consists, in fact, in extending continuity by
similarity; in endowing with identical properties
and similar accompaniments things which resemble
each other ; in other words, it consists in impliedly
asserting that the moment two things are identical
in one point they are so for all the rest. This
will be fairly well understood by imagining what
takes place when mental images having the above-
mentioned properties meet. Suppose that B is
associated with C, and that A resembles B. In
consequence of their resemblance the passing
from A to B is easy ; and then B suggesting C by
contiguity, it happens that this C is connected
with A — connected, though, in reality, they have
never been tried together. I say they are asso-
ciated on the basis of their relation to B, which
is the rallying point. It is thus that, on seeing
a piece of red-hot iron (A), I conclude it is
hot (C), because I recollect distinctly or uncon-
sciously another piece of red-hot iron (B), of
which I once experienced the heat. It is this
recollection B which logicians, in their analysis
of logical, verbal, and formal argument, call the
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 171
middle term. Our representation of the process
of reasoning is not special to argument. It also
expresses the process of invention, and every kind
of progress from the known to the unknown. It
is an activity which creates relations, which
assembles and binds together, and the connec-
tions made between different representations are
due to their partial identities, which act as
solder to two pieces of metal
It will now be understood that these relations
between the images curiously resemble the external
order of things, the order of our sensations, the
order of nature, the physical law. This is because
this physical law also has the same character
and expresses itself similarly. We might say " all
things which resemble each other have the same
properties," or "all things alike on one point
resemble each other on all other points." But
immediately we do so, the difference between the
physical and the mental law becomes apparent.
The formula we have given is only true on con-
dition that many restrictions and distinctions are
made.
The process of nature is so to do that the same
phenomenon always unfolds itself in the same
order. But this process is not always comprehended
in real life, for it is hidden from our eyes by the
manifold combinations of chance; in the reality
that we perceive there is a crowd of phenomena
172 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
which resemble each other but are not really
the same. There are a number of phenomena
which co-exist or follow each other without this
order of co-existence or succession being necessary
or constant. In other words, there are resem-
blances which are the marks of something, as a
logician would say, and others which are not the
marks of anything ; there are relations of time and
space which are the expression of a law ; there are
some which are accidental, and may possibly never
be reproduced.
It would be a wonderful advantage if every
scientific specialist would make out a list of the
non-significant properties that he recognises in
matter. The chemist, for example, would show
us that specific weight has hardly any value in
diagnosis, that the crystalline form of a salt is
often not its own, that its colour especially is
almost negligible because an immense number of
crystals are white or colourless, that precipitation
by a given substance does not ordinarily suffice
to characterise a body, and so on. The botanist,
on his part, would show us that, in determining
plants, absolute dimension is less important than
proportion, colour less important than form, cer-
tain structures of organs less important than
others. The pathologist would teach us that
most pathological symptoms have but a trivial
value ; the cries, the enervation, the agitation
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 173
of a patient, even the delirium which so affects
the bystanders, are less characteristic of fever
than the rate of his pulse, and the latter less
than the temperature of the armpit or the dry-
ness of the tongue, &c. At every moment the
study of science reveals resemblances of facts and
contiguities of facts which must be neglected for
the sake of others. And if we pass from this pro-
found knowledge of the objects to the empirical
knowledge, to the external perception of bodies, it
is in immense number that one espies around one
traps laid by nature. The sound we hear re-
sembles several others, all produced by different
causes; many of our visual sensations likewise
lend themselves to the most varied interpreta-
tions ; by the side of the efficient cause of an event
we find a thousand entangled contingencies which
appear so important that to disentangle them we
are as much perplexed as the savage, who, unable
to discriminate between causes and coincidences,
returns to drink at the well which has cured him,
carefully keeping to the same hour, the same
gestures, and the same finery.
The reason of this is that the faculty of simi-
larity and the faculty of contiguity do not give
the distinction, necessary as it is, between resem-
blances and co-existences which are significant
and those which are not. The causal nexus
between two phenomena is not perceived as
174 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
something apart and mi generis; it is not even
perceived at all. We perceive only their relation
in time and space, and it is our mind which
raises a succession to the height of a causal con-
nection, by intercalating between cause and effect
something of what we ourselves feel when we
voluntarily order the execution of a movement.
This is not the place to inquire what are the
experimental conditions in which we subject phe-
nomena to this anthropomorphic transformation ;
it will suffice for us to repeat here that, in per-
ception, a chance relation between phenomena
impresses us in the same way as when it is the
expression of a law.
Our intellectual machine sometimes works in
accord with the external law and at others makes
mistakes and goes the wrong way. Then we are
obliged to correct it, and to try a better adjust-
ment, either by profounder experimenting with
nature (methods of concordance, discordance, varia-
tions, &c), or by a comparison of different judg-
ments and arguments made into a synthesis ; and
this collaboration of several concordant activi-
ties ends in a conclusion which can never repre-
sent the truth, but only the probable truth. The
study of the laws of the mind shows us too
clearly, in fact, their fluidity with regard to
the laws of nature for us not to accept prob-
abilism. There exists no certitude — only very
DEFINITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 175
varied degrees of probability. Daily practice con-
tents itself with a very low degree of probability ;
judicial logic demands a rather higher one, espe-
cially when it is a question of depriving one
of our fellow-creatures of liberty or life. Science
claims one higher still. But there is never any-
thing but differences of degrees in probability and
conjecture.
This, then, is the definition of psychology
that we propose. It studies a certain number
of laws which we term mental, in opposition
to those of external nature, from which they
differ, but which, properly speaking, do not de-
serve the qualification of mental, since they are
— or at least the best known of them are — laws
of the images, and the images are material ele-
ments. Although it may seem absolutely para-
doxical, psychology is a science of matter — the
science of a part of matter which has the property
of preadaptation.
BOOK III
THE UNION OF THE SOUL 1 AND
THE BODY
1 See note on p. 4.
H
CHAPTER I
THE MIND HAS AN INCOMPLETE LIFE
The problem of the union of the mind and the
body is not one of those which present themselves
in pure speculation; it has its roots in experimen-
tal facts, and is forced upon us by the necessity
of explaining observations such as those we are
about to quote.
The force of our consciousness, the correctness
of our judgments, our tempers and our characters,
the state of health of our minds, and also their
troubles, their weaknesses, and even their exist-
ence, are all in a state of strict dependence on the
condition of our bodies, more precisely with that
of our nervous systems, or, more precisely still,
with the state of those three pounds of proteid
substance which each of us has at the back of his
forehead, and which are called our brains. This is
daily demonstrated by thousands upon thousands
of observations.
The question is to know how this union of the
body with the consciousness is to be explained, it
being assumed that the two terms of this union
present a great difference in their nature. The
179
180 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
easier it seems to demonstrate that this union
exists, the more difficult it appears to explain
how it is realised ; and the proof of this difficulty
is the number of divergent interpretations given
to it. Were it a simple question of fact, the per-
petual discussions and controversies upon it would
not arise.
Many problems here present themselves. The
first is that of the genesis or origin of the
consciousness. It has to be explained how a
psychical phenomenon can appear in the midst
of material ones. In general, one begins by
supposing that the material phenomena are pro-
duced first; they consist, for instance, in the
working of the nervous centres. All this is phy-
sical or chemical, and therefore material. Then at
a given moment, after this mechanical process,
a quite different phenomenon emerges. This is
thought, consciousness, emotion. Then comes the
question whether this production of thought in
the midst of physical phenomena is capable of
explanation, and how thought is connected with
its physical antecedents. What is the nature
of the link between them? Is it a relation of
cause to effect, of genesis? or a coincidence? or
the interaction of two distinct forces ? Is this
relation constant or necessary? Can the mind
enjoy an existence independent of the brain? Can
it survive the death of the brain ?
THE MIND HAS AN INCOMPLETE LIFE 181
The second question is that of knowing what
is the role, the utility, and the efficacity of the
psychical phenomenon. Once formed, this pheno-
menon evolves in a certain direction and assumes
to us who have consciousness of it a very great
importance. What is its action on the material
phenomena of the brain which surround it ? Does
it develop according to laws of its own, which have
no relation to the laws of brain action? Does
it exercise any action on these intra-cerebral
functions? Does it exercise any action on the
centrifugal currents which go to the motor nerves?
Is it capable of exciting a movement? or is it
deprived of all power of creating effect ?
We will briefly examine the principal solutions
which the imagination of mankind has found for
these very difficult problems. Some of the best
known of these solutions bear the names of spiri-
tualism, materialism, parallelism, and monism.
We will speak of these and of some others also.
Before beginning our critical statement, let us
recall some of the results of our previous ana-
lyses which here intrude themselves, to use the
ambitious language of Kant, as the prolegomena
to every future" solution which claims the title
of science. In fact, we are now no longer at
the outset of our investigation. We have had
to acknowledge the exactness of certain facts,
and we are bound to admit their consequences.
1 82 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Notably, the definition of psychical phenomena
at which we arrived, not without some trouble,
will henceforth play a rather large part in our
discussion. It will force us to question a great
metaphysical principle which, up till now, has
been almost universally considered as governing
the problem of the union of the mind with the
body.
This principle bears the name of the axiom
of heterogeneity, or the principle of psycho-
physical dualism. No philosopher has more
clearly formulated it, and more logically deduced
its consequences, than Flournoy. This author has
written a little pamphlet called Mitaphysique et
Psychologic, wherein he briefly sets forth all the
known systems of metaphysics by reducing them
to the so-called principle of heterogeneity; after
this, the same principle enables him to " execute "
them. He formulates it in the following terms :
" body and mind, consciousness and the molecular
cerebral movement of the brain, the psychical fact
and the physical fact, although simultaneous, are
heterogeneous, unconnected, irreducible, and ob-
stinately two." 1 The same author adds : " this is
evident of itself, and axiomatic. Every physi-
cal, chemical, or physiological event, in the last
resort, simply consists, according to science, in
a more or less rapid displacement of a certain
1 For reference, see note on p. 73.— Ed.
THE MIND HAS AN INCOMPLETE LIFE 183
number of material elements, in a change of their
mutual distances or of their modes of grouping.
Now, what can there be in common, I ask you,
what analogy can you see, between this drawing
together or moving apart of material masses in
space, and the fact of having a feeling of joy, the
recollection of an absent friend, the perception of
a gas jet, a desire, or of an act of volition of any
kind? 11 And further on: "All that we can say
to connect two events so absolutely dissimilar is,
that they take place at the same time. . . . This
does not mean that we wish to reduce them to
unity, or to join them together by the link of
causality ... it is impossible to conceive any real
connection, any internal relation between these
two unconnected things."
Let us not hesitate to denounce as false this
proposition which is presented to us as an axiom.
On looking closely into it, we shall perceive that
the principle of heterogeneity does not contain
the consequences it is sought to ascribe to it. It
seems to me it should be split up into two proposi-
tions of very unequal value : 1, the mind and
body are heterogeneous; 2, by virtue of this
heterogeneity it is not possible to understand any
direct relation between the two.
Now, if the first proposition is absolutely correct,
in the sense that consciousness and matter are
heterogeneous, the second proposition seems to us
184 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
directly contrary to the facts, which show us that
the phenomena of consciousness are incomplete
phenomena. The consciousness is not sufficient
for itself; as we have said, it cannot exist by itself.
This again, if you like, is an axiom, or rather it is
a fact shown by observation and confirmed by
reflection. Mind and matter brought down to the
essential, to the consciousness and its object, form
a natural whole, and the difficulty does not consist
in uniting but in separating them. Consider the
following fact : " I experience a sensation, and I
have consciousness of it." This is the coupling of
two things — a sensation and a cognition.
The two elements, if we insist upon it, are
heterogeneous, and they differ qualitatively; but
notwithstanding the existing prejudice by reason
of which no direct relation, no commerce, can be
admitted between heterogeneous facts, the alliance
of the consciousness and the sensation is the natural
and primitive fact. They can only be separated by
analysis, and a scrupulous mind might even ask
whether one has the right to separate them. I
have a sensation, and I have consciousness of it.
If not two facts, they are one and the same.
Now, sensation is matter and my consciousness is
mind. If I am judging an assortment of stuffs,
this assortment, or the sensation I have of them,
is a particle of matter, a material state, and my
judgment on this sensation is the psychical
THE MIND HAS AN INCOMPLETE LIFE 185
phenomenon. We can neither believe, nor desire,
nor do any act of our intelligence without realising
this welding together of mind and matter. They
are as inseparable as motion and the object that
moves; and this comparison, though far-fetched,
is really very convenient. Motion cannot exist
without a mobile object; and an object, on the
other hand, can exist without movement In the
same way, sensation may exist without the con-
sciousness ; but the converse proposition, conscious-
ness without sensation, without an object, an
empty consciousness or a " pure thought," cannot
be understood.
Let us mark clearly how this union is put
forward by us. We describe it after nature. It is
observation which reveals to us the union and the
fusion of the two terms into one. Or, rather, we
do not even perceive their union until the moment
when, by a process of analysis, we succeed in con-
vincing ourselves that that which we at first con-
sidered single is really double, or, if you like, can
be made into two by the reason, without being so
in reality. Thus it happens that we bring this big
problem in metaphysics on to the field of observa-
tion.
Our solution vaguely resembles that which has
sometimes been presented under the ancient name
of physical influx, or under the more modern
name of inter-actionism. There are many authors
186 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
who maintain that the soul can act directly on the
body and modify it, and this is what is called
inter - actionism. Thereby is understood, if I
mistake not, an action from cause to effect,
produced between two terms which enjoy a cer-
tain independence with regard to each other.
This interpretation is indubitably close to ours,
though not to be confused with it. My personal
interpretation sets aside the idea of all independ-
ence of the mind, since it attributes to the mind an
incomplete and, as it were, a virtual existence.
If we had to seek paternity for ideas I would
much rather turn to Aristotle. It was not without
some surprise that I was able to convince myself
that the above theory of the relations between the
soul and the body is to be found almost in its
entirety in the great philosopher. It is true that
it is mixed up with many accessory ideas which
are out of date and which we now reject ; but the
essential of the theory is there very clearly for-
mulated, and that is the important point A few
details on this subject will not be out of place.
I give them, not from the original source, which I
am not erudite enough to consult direct, but from
the learned treatise which Bain has published on
the psychology of Aristotle, as an appendix to his
work on the Senses and the Intelligence.
The whole metaphysics of Aristotle is dominated
by the distinction between form and matter. This
THE MIND HAS AN INCOMPLETE LIFE 187
distinction is borrowed from the most familiar fact
in the sensible world — the form of solid objects.
We may name a substance without troubling our-
selves as to the form it possesses, and we may
name the form without regard to the substance
that it clothes. But this distinction is a purely
abstract one, for there can be no real separation
of form from matter, no form without matter,
and no matter without form. The two terms
are correlative; each one implies the other, and
neither can be realised or actualised without the
other. Every individual substance can be con-
sidered from a triple point of view: 1st, form;
2nd, matter ; and 3rd, the compound or aggregate
of form and matter, the inseparable Ens, which
transports us out of the domain of logic and
abstraction into that of reality.
Aristotle recognises between these two logical
correlatives a difference in rank. Form is
superior, nobler, the higher in dignity, nearer to
the perfect entity ; matter is inferior, more modest,
more distant from perfection. On account of its
hierarchical inferiority, matter is often presented
as the second, or correlatum, and form as the first,
or relatum. This difference in rank is so strongly
marked, that those two correlations are likewise
conceived in a different form — that of the poten-
tial and the actual Matter is the potential,
imperfect, roughly outlined element which is
1 88 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
not yet actual, and may perhaps never become so.
Form is the actual, the energy, the entelechy which
actualises the potential and determines the final
compound.
These few definitions will make clear the
singularly ingenious idea of Aristotle on the
nature of the body, the soul, and of their union.
The body is matter which is only intelligible as
the correlatum of form; it can neither exist by
itself nor be known by itself — that is to say, when
considered outside this relation. The soul is form,
the actual. By uniting with the body it consti-
tutes the living subject The soul is the relcUum,
and is unintelligible and void of sense without
its correlatum. "The soul," says Aristotle, "is
not a variety of body, but it could not exist with-
out a body : the soul is not a body, but something
which belongs or is relative to a body." The
animated subject is a form plunged and engaged
in matter, and all its actions and passions are so
likewise. Each has its formal side which concerns
the soul, and its material side which concerns the
body. The emotion which belongs to the ani-
mated subject or aggregate of soul and body is
a complex fact having two aspects logically
distinguishable from each other, each of which
is correlative to the other and implies it. It is
thus not only with our passions, but also with
our perceptions, our imaginations, reminiscences,
THE MIND HAS AN INCOMPLETE LIFE 189
reasonings, and efforts of attention to learn. In-
telligence, like emotion, is a phenomenon not
simply of the corporeal organism nor of the Now
only, but of the commonalty or association of
which they are members, and when the intelli-
gence weakens it is not because the N0O9 is altered,
but because the association is destroyed by the
ruin of the corporeal organism.
These few notes, which I have taken in their
integrity from Bain's text, allow us thoroughly to
comprehend the thought of Aristotle, and it seems
to me that the Greek philosopher, by making of
the soul and body two correlative terms, has formed
a comparison of great exactness. I also much
admire his idea according to which it is through
the union of the body and soul that the whole,
which till then was only possible, goes forth from
the domain of logic and becomes actual. The
soul actualises the body, and becomes, as he said,
its entelechy.
These views are too close to those I have
myself just set forth for it to be necessary to dwell
on their resemblance. The latter would become
still stronger if we separated from the thought of
Aristotle a few developments which are not essen-
tial, though he allowed them great importance:
I refer to the continual comparison he makes
with the form and matter of corporeal objects.
Happy though it may be, this comparison is but
190 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
a metaphor which perhaps facilitates the under-
standing of Aristotle's idea, but is not essential
to hi* theory. For my part, I attach far greater
importance to the character of rdatum and cor-
rdatum ascribed to the two terms mind and
matter, and to the actualisation 1 produced by
their union.
Let me add another point of comparison. Aris-
totle's theory recalls in a striking manner that of
Kant on the a priori forms of thought. The form
of thought, or the category, is nothing without the
matter of cognition, and the latter is nothing
without the application of form. "Thoughts
without content given by sensation are empty;
intuitions without concept furnished by the under-
standing are blind." There is nothing astonishing
in finding here the same illustration, since there
is throughout a question of describing the same
phenomenon, — the relation of mind to matter.
There remains to us to review the principal
types of metaphysical systems. We shall discuss
these by taking as our guide the principle we have
just evolved, and which may be thus formulated :
The phenomena of consciousness constitute an
incomplete mode of existence.
1 i.e. rendering actual. — Ed.
CHAPTER II
SPIRITUALISM 1 AND IDEALISM
Flournoy has somewhere written that the chief
interest of the systems of metaphysics lies less
in the intellectual constructions they raise than
in the aspirations of the mind and of the heart
to which they correspond. Without taking liter-
ally this terribly sceptical opinion, it would be
highly useful to begin the study of any meta-
physical system by the psychology of its author.
The value of each system would be better under-
stood, and their reasons would be comprehended.
This book is too short to permit us to enter into
such biographical details. I am obliged to take
the metaphysical systems en bloc, as if they were
anonymous works, and to efface all the shades,
occasionally so curious, that the thought of each
author has introduced into them. Yet, however
brief our statement, it seems indispensable to in-
1 It is, perhaps, needless to point out that by " spiritualism '*
M. Binet does not mean the doctrine of the spirit-rappers, whom
he, like other scientific writers, designates as 11 spiritists," but
the creed of all those who believe in disembodied spirits or
existences. — Ed.
X91
/
192 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
dicate clearly the physical or moral idea concealed
within each system.
Spiritualism
It is known that spiritualism is a doctrine
which has for its chief aim the raising of the
dignity of man, by recognising in him faculties
superior to the properties of matter. We con-
stantly meet, in spiritualism, with the notion of
superior and inferior, understood not only in an
intellectual sense but also in the sense of moral
worth.
It will also be remarked, as a consequence of
the above principle, that a spiritualist does not
confine himself to discussing the ideas of his
habitual adversary, the materialist ; he finds them
not only false, but dangerous, and is indignant with
them; some persons even ingenuously acknow-
ledge that they hold firmly to certain principles
because they fear to be converted to materialism.
I can also discern in this system a very natural
horror of death, which inspires in so many people,
of whom I am one, both hatred and disgust.
The spiritualist revolts against the prospect of a
definitive annihilation of thought, and the system
he adopts is largely explained as an effort towards
immortality.
This effort has led to the theory of two sub-
stances, the soul and the body, which are re-
SPIRITUALISM AND IDEALISM 193
presented as being as thoroughly separated as
possible. The soul has not its origin in the body,
and it derives none of its properties from its
fellow ; it is a substance created in complete in-
dependence relatively to the body; the soul, in
its essence, has nothing in common with matter.
The essence of the soul, said Descartes, is thought;
the essence of the body is extent. It follows
from this that the soul, in its determinations and
actions, is liberated from the laws and neces-
sities of the corporeal nature ; it is a free power,
a power of indetermination, capable of choice, cap-
able of introducing new, unforeseen, and unfore-
seeable actions, and on this point opposes itself to
corporeal phenomena, which are all subject to a
determinism so rigorous that any event could be
foreseen if its antecedents were known. Another
consequence of spiritualism is the admission of
the immortality of the soul, which, being widely
distinct from the body, is not affected by its dis-
solution; it is, on the contrary, liberated, since
death cuts the link which binds them together.
But there is a link, and the explanation of this
link brings with it the ruin of the whole system.
One is forced to admit that this principle of the
separation of body and soul is liable, in fact, to
many exceptions. Even if they are two isolated
powers, the necessities of life oblige them to enter
continually into communication with each other.
N
194 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
In the case of perceptions, it is the body which
acts on the soul and imparts sensations to it;
in movements, it is the soul, on the contrary,
which acts on the body, to make it execute its
desires and its will.
Spiritualists must acknowledge that they are
at some trouble to explain this traffic between
the two substances ; for, with their respect for the
principle of heterogeneity mentioned above, they
do not manage to conceive how that contact
of the physical and the mental can be made
which is constantly necessary in the life of rela-
tion. By what means, have they long asked them-
selves, can that which is only extent act on that
which is only thought ? How can we represent to
ourselves this local union of matter; with an im-
material principle, which, by its essence, does not
exist in space ? The two substances have been so
completely separated, to insure the liberty of the
soul and its superiority over the body, that it has
become impossible to bring them together. The
scission has been too complete. They cannot be
sewn together again.
Such are the principal objections raised against
spiritualism. These objections are derived from
points of view which are not ours, and we have
therefore no need to estimate their value.
From our point of view, the spiritualist con-
ception has chosen an excellent starting point. By
SPIRITUALISM AND IDEALISM 195
establishing the consciousness and the object of
cognition as two autonomous powers, neither of
which is the slave of the other, spiritualism has
arrived at an opinion of irreproachable exact-
ness; it is indeed thus that the relations of
these two terms must be stated; each has
the same importance and the right to the
same autonomy. 1
Yet, spiritualism has not rested there, and, by
a lamentable exaggeration, it has thought that the
consciousness, which it calls the soul, could exer-
cise its functions in complete independence of the
object of cognition, which it calls matter. There
is the error. It consists in misunderstanding the
incomplete and, as it were, virtual existence of
the consciousness. This refutation is enough as
regards spiritualism. Nothing more need be
added.
Idealism
Idealism is an exceedingly complex system,
varying much with varying authors, very polymor-
phous, and consequently very difficult to discuss.
The ancient hylozoism, the monadism of Leib-
nitz, and the recent panpsychism of M. Strong
are only different forms of the same doctrine.
1 I do not insist on the difference between my conception and
the spiritualistic conception ; my distinction between conscious-
ness and matter does not correspond, it is evident, to that of
M facts of consciousness" and "physical facts" which spiri-
tualism sets up.
196 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
Like spiritualism, with which it is connected by
many ties, idealism is a philosophy which ex-
presses some disdain for matter, but the thoughts
which have sought to shelter themselves under
this philosophy are so varied that it would be
perilous to try to define them briefly.
There can be discussed in idealism a certain
number of affirmations which form the basis of
the system. None of these affirmations is, strictly
speaking, demonstrated or demonstrable; but they
offer very different degrees of probability, and it
is for this reason that we shall notice them.
Amongst these affirmations there are some that
we have already met with in our study of the
definition of sensation; others will be newer
to us.
i. Here is one which seems to arise directly
from the facts, and appears for a long time to
have constituted an impregnable position for
idealists. It may be expressed in three words:
esse est percipi.
Starting with the observation that every time
we bear witness to the existence of the external
world, it is because we perceive it, idealists admit
that the existence of this external world shares
exactly the lot of our perception, and that like it
it is discontinuous and intermittent. When we
close our eyes, it ceases to exist, like a torch which
is extinguished, and lights up again when we open
SPIRITUALISM AND IDEALISM 197
them. We have already discussed this proposi-
tion, and have shown that it contains nothing
imperative; and we may very well decline to
subscribe to it.
2. There follows a second proposition, barely
distinct from the previous one. There should
be nothing else in objects but that which we
perceive, and that of which we have consciousness
should be, in the fullest possible acceptation of
the words, the measure of what is. Consequently
there should be no need to seek, under the object
perceived, another and larger reality, a source
from which might flow wider knowledge than
that we at present possess. This is as disputable
as the preceding affirmation, and for the same
reasons.
3. The third proposition is the heart of the
idealist thesis. It is sometimes presented as a
deduction from the foregoing, but it is neverthe-
less thoroughly distinct from it, and the preceding
affirmations might legitimately be accepted and
this new one rejected. This proposition may be
expressed thus : Everything that is perceived is
psychical.
It is not only idealists who subscribe to this
opinion, however, and we have seen, when dealing
with the definition of matter, that it is widely
spread. We understand by it that the objects we
perceive exist in the consciousness, are of the
i 9 8 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
consciousness, and are constituted by ideas; the
whole world is nothing but idea and representa-
tion; and, since our mind is taken to be of a
psychical nature, the result is that everything,
absolutely everything, the person who knows and
the thing known, are all psychical. This is
panpsychism. Flournoy, on this point, says, with
a charm coloured by irony: "We henceforth
experience a sweet family feeling, we find our-
selves, so to speak, at home in the midst of this
universe . . 1 We have demonstrated above
that the unity here attained is purely verbal,
since we cannot succeed in suppressing the essen-
tial differences of things.
4. Now comes an affirmation on the genesis
of things. After having admitted that the object
is an idea of the mind, one of its manifestations,
or one of its moods, the idealists go so far as to say
that the consciousness is the generating power of
ideas, and, consequently, the generating cause of
the universe. It is thought which creates the
world. That is the final conclusion.
I indicated, beforehand, in the chapters on the
definition of sensation and on the distinction
between the consciousness and the object, the
reasons which lead me to reject the premises of
idealism. It will be sufficient to offer here a
1 Archives de Psychologic, vol. iv. No. 14, Nov. 1904, p. 132
(article on PanpeychUm).
SPIRITUALISM AND IDEALISM 199
criticism on its last conclusion : " It is the mind
that creates the world."
This thesis strikes at the duality — conscious-
ness and object; it gives the supremacy to the
consciousness by making of the object an effect or
property of the former. We can object that this
genesis cannot be clearly represented, and that
for the very simple reason that it is impossible to
clearly accept "mind" as a separate entity and
distinct from matter. It is easy to affirm this
separation, thanks to the psittacism of the words,
which are here used like counterfeit coin, but we
cannot represent it to ourselves, for it corresponds
to nothing. The consciousness constitutes all
that is mental in the world; nothing else can
be described as mental. Now this consciousness \
only exists as an act ; it is, in other terms, an ^
incomplete form of existence, which does not exist v
apart from its object, of which the true name is
matter. It is therefore very difficult to under-
stand this affirmation, "It is the mind that
creates the world," since to be able to do so, we
should have to imagine a consciousness without
an object.
Moreover, should we even succeed in doing so,
we should be none the more disposed, on that
account, to give assent to this proposition. Con-
sciousness and N matter represent to us the most
different and antithetical terms of the whole of the
200 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
knowable. Were the hypothesis to be advanced
that one of these elements is capable of engender-
ing the other, we should immediately have to ask
ourselves why this generating power and this pre-
eminence should be attributed to one rather
than to the other element. Who can claim that
one solution is more clear, more reasonable, or
more probable than the other ?
One of the great advantages of the history of
philosophy here asserts itself. This history shows
us that different minds when reflecting on the
same problems have come to conceive solutions
which have appeared to them clear, and con-
sequently were possible ; now, as these solutions
are often contradictory, nothing shows better
than their collation the distance between possi-
bility and fact. Thus the materialists, who, like
the idealists, have put forward a genetic theory
of the mind, have conceived mind as produced
by matter; — a conception diametrically opposed to
that of the idealists. It may be said that these
two conceptions, opposed in sense, annul each
other, and that each of these two philosophical
systems has rendered us service by demonstrating
the error of the opposing system.
CHAPTER III
materialism and parallelism
Materialism
Materialism is a very ancient doctrine. It is even
the most ancient of all, which simply proves that
amongst the different explanations given of our
double physico-mental nature, this doctrine is the
easiest to understand. The origin of materialism
is to be found in the beliefs of savage tribes, and is
again found, very clearly defined, in the philosophy
of those ancient Greeks who philosophized before
Plato and Aristotle. A still stranger fact is that
the thoughts of a great number of the Fathers
of the Church inclined towards the philosophy
of matter. Then, in the course of its evolution,
there occurred a moment of eclipse, and materi-
alism ceased to attract attention till the con-
temporary period in which we assist at its
re-birth. Nowadays, it constitutes a powerful
doctrine, the more so that it has surreptitiously
crept into the thoughts of many learned men
without their being clearly conscious of it. There
are many physicists and physiologists who think
aoi
202
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
and speak as materialists, though they have made
up their minds to remain on the battle-ground of
observed facts and have a holy horror of meta-
physics. In a certain sense, it may be said that
materialism is the metaphysics of those who refuse
to be metaphysicians.
It is very evident that in the course of its long
history, materialism has often changed its skin.
Like all knowledge, it has been subject to the law
of progress ; and, certainly, it would not have been
of a nature to satisfy the intellectual wants of
contemporary scholars, had it not stripped itself
of the rude form under which it first manifested
itself in the mind of primitive man. Yet what
has enabled the doctrine to keep its unity through
all its changes is that it manifests a deeply human
tendency to cling by preference to everything visible
and tangible.
Whatever strikes the eyes, or can be felt by the
hand, seems to us in the highest degree endowed
with reality or existence. It is only much later,
after an effort of refined thought, that we come to
recognise an existence in everything that can be
perceived in any way whatever, even in an idea.
It is still later that we understand that existence
is not only that which is perceived but also that
which is linked logically with the rest of our
knowledge. A good deal of progress has been
necessary to reach this point.
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 203
As I have not the slightest intention of giving
even an abridged history of materialism, let us
come at once to the present day, and endeavour
to say in what consists the scientific form this
doctrine has assumed. Its fundamental basis has
not changed. It still rests on our tendency to
give chief importance to what can be seen and
touched; and it is an effect of the hegemony
of three of our senses, the visual, the tactile, and
the muscular.
The extraordinary development of the physical
sciences has no doubt given an enormous encour-
agement to materialism, and it may be said that
in the philosophy of nature it occupies, a principal
place, and that it is there in its own domain
and unassailable.
It has become the expression of the idea that
everything that can be explained scientifically,
everything susceptible of being measured, is a
material phenomenon. It is the representation
of the material explanation pushed to its last
limits, and all experiments, all calculations, all
inductions resting on the grand principle of the
conservation of matter and energy plead in its
favour.
We will examine with some precision how far
such a doctrine solves the problem of the exist-
ence of the intellectual functions.
The doctrine has understood this connection as
2o 4 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
being purely material, and has sought its image in
other phenomena which are entirely so. Thus, it
has borrowed from physiology the principle of its
explanation, it has transported into the domain of
thought the idea of function, and it has supposed
that the soul is to the body in the relation of
function to organ. Intelligence would thus be
a cerebral function. To explain intelligence,
materialists link it with matter, turn it into a
property of matter, and compare it to a move-
ment of matter, and sometimes even to a secretion.
So Karl Vogt, the illustrious Genevan naturalist,
one day declared, to the great scandal of every
one, that the brain secretes the thought as the
kidney does urine. This bold comparison seemed
shocking, puerile, and false, for a secretion is a
material thing while thought is not. Karl Vogt
also employed another comparison: the brain
produces the thought as the muscle produces
movement, and it at once seems less offensive to
compare the thought to a movement than to
compare it to -a liquid secretion. At the present
day, an illustration still more vague would be
used, such as that of a transformation of energy :
chemical energy disengaged by the nerve centres
would be thus looked upon as transformed into
psychical energy.
However, it matters little what metaphors are
applied to for help in explaining the passage from
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 205
the physical to the mental. What characterises
materialist philosophy is its belief in the possi-
bility of such a passage, and its consider ing it as
the genesis of thought. " One calls materialist,"
says Renouvier, with great exactness, "every philo-
sophy which defines thought as the product
of a compound whose elements do not imply
thought." A sweeping formula which allows us
to foresee all the future avatars of the mate-
rialist doctrine, and to class them beforehand
in the same category.
The criticisms which have been directed against
materialism are all, or nearly all, variations of the
principle of heterogeneity" We will not dwell
long on this, but simply recollect that, accord-
ing to this principle, it is impossible to attribute
to the brain the capacity of generating conscious-
ness. Physical force can indeed generate physi-
cal force under the same or a different form,
and it thus produces all the effects which are
determined by the laws of nature. But it is im-
possible to comprehend how physical force can
enrich itself at a given moment by a conscious
force. Physical force is reduced to movements
of bodies and to displacements of atoms; how
could a change of position in any inert objects
give rise to a judgment, a reasoning, or any
phenomenon of the consciousness ? It is further
said: this idea of function, which materialists
206 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
here introduce to render more comprehensible
the passage from a material body to a spiritual
action, contains only an empty explanation, for
the function is not essentially distinct by its
nature from the organ; it is simply "the
organ in activity," it adds to the organ taken
in a state of repose but one change, viz. activity,
that is to say movement, and, consequently, the
function of an organ is material by the same right
as the organ. When a muscle contracts, this
contraction, which is the proper function of the
muscular fibre, consists in a condensation of the
muscular protoplasm, and this condensation is a
material fact. When a gland enters into activity,
a certain quantity of liquid flows into the channels
of the gland, and this liquid is caused by a physical
and chemical modification of the cellular proto-
plasm; it is a melting, or a liquefaction, which
likewise is material. The function of the nerve
cell is to produce movement, or to preserve it, or
to direct it; it is material like the cells. There
is therefore nothing in all these functional pheno-
mena which might lead us to understand how a
material cause should be capable of engendering a
conscious effect.
It seems that all materialists have acknowledged
that here is the vulnerable point in their theory,
for it is the principle of heterogeneity which they
have especially combated. But their defence is
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 207
wanting in frankness, and principally consists in
subterfuges.
In brief, it affirms that we are surrounded
with mystery, that we are not sufficiently learned
to have the right to impose limits to the
power of matter, and to say to it : " Thou shalt
not produce this phenomenon." A materialist
theologian declares that he sees no impossibility
in stones thinking and arguing, if Ood, in His
infinite power, has decided to unite thought with
brute matter. This argument is not really serious ;
it demands the intervention of so powerful a Deus
ex machina, that it can be applied equally to all
problems ; to solve all is to solve none.
Modern materialists rightly do not bring God
into the question. Their mode of argument takes
another form; but it remains to be seen if, at
bottom, it is not the same as the other. It simply
consists in affirming that up till now we know
certain properties of matter only, but that science
every day discovers new ones; that matter is a
reservoir of unknown forces, and that it is not
impossible that the origin of psychical forces may
yet be discovered in matter. This idea is clearly
hinted at by Littr6. The physicist Tyndall gave it
a definite formula when he uttered at the Belfast
Congress this phrase so often quoted : " If I look
back on the limits of experimental science, I
can discern in the bosom of that matter (which,
208 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
in our ignorance, while at the same time pro-
fessing our respect for its Creator, we have, till
now, treated with opprobrium) the promise and
the power of all forms and qualities of life."
The opponents of the doctrine have not ceased
to answer that the matter of to-morrow, like the
matter of to-day, can generate none but material
effects, and that a difficulty is not solved by
putting off its solution to some indefinite date
in our scientific evolution : and it certainly seems
that the counter-stroke is decisive, if we admit
the principle of heterogeneity with its natural
consequence.
We will now criticise the above doctrine by
making use of the ideas I have above enunciated.
The criticism we have to apply to materialism is
not the same as that just summarised. The axis
of the discussion changes its position.
In the first place, I reproach materialism with
presenting itself as a theory of the generation of the
consciousness by the object. We have already re-
proached idealism with putting itself forward as a
theory of the generation of the object by the con-
sciousness. The error of the two systems is produced
in a converse direction, but is of the same gravity.
The consciousness and its object, we say yet again,
constitute the widest division it is possible to
effect in the domain of cognition; it is quite as
illegitimate to reduce the first term to the second
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 209
as to reduce the second to the first. To reduce
one to the other, by way of affiliation or otherwise,
there must first be discovered, then, an identity
of nature which does not exist.
In the second place, when one examines closely
the explanation materialism has imagined in order
to derive thought from an action of matter, it is
seen that this representation is rendered com-
pletely impossible by all we know of the nature
of thought. For the materialist to suppose for
one moment that thought is a cerebral function,
he must evidently make an illusion for himself
as to what thought is, and must juggle with con-
cepts. Perhaps, could we penetrate into his own
inmost thought, we should discover that at the
moment he supposes a mere cell can manufacture
the phenomena of consciousness, some vague image
suggests itself to him whereby he identifies these
phenomena with a light and subtle principle
escaping from the nerve cell, something which
resembles an electric effluve, or a will-of-the-wisp,
or the flame from a punch-bowl. 1
I cannot, of course, tell whether my supposition
is correct. But what I assert, with the calmness
1 I can quote two observations in support of this. M. Brieux,
to whom I was relating this part of my argument, stopped me,
saying, 44 Tou have guessed right ; I represent to myself thought
issuing from brain in the form of an electric gleam." Dr.
Simon also informed me, during the reading of my manuscript,
that he saw 44 thought floating over the brain like an ignis
fatuut."
O
2io THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
of perfect certitude, is that the materialist has
not taken the pains to analyse attentively what
he calls the phenomenon of consciousness. Had
he made this analysis and kept the elements in
his mind, he would have seen that it is almost
impossible to hook in any way a phenomenon of
consciousness on to a material molecule.
In fact, also, to take this into account, we will
not remain within the vagueness of the concept, but
will take a particular example to argue upon, viz.
that of an external perception. I open my window
on a fine day, and I see before me a sunny plain,
with, as far as the eye can reach, houses amongst the
trees, and again more houses, the most distant of
which are outlined against my far-off horizon.
This is my mental phenomenon. And while I am
at my window, my eyes fixed on the view, the
anatomist declares that, starting from my retina,
molecular vibrations travel along the optic nerve,
cross each other at the chiasma, enter into the
fascia, pass through the internal capsule and
reach the hemispheres, or rather the occipital
regions, of the brain, where, for the moment, we
agree to localise the centre of projection of the
visual sensations. This is my physical pheno-
menon. It now becomes the question of passing
from this physical phenomena to the mental one.
And here we are stopped by a really formidable
difficulty.
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 211
My mental phenomenon is not entirely mental,
as is usually supposed from the deceitful brevity
of the phrase. It is in great part physical, for it
can be decomposed into two elements, a conscious-
ness and its object; and this object of the con-
sciousness, this group of little houses I see in the
plain, belongs to sensation — that is to say, to
something physical — or, in other words, to matter.
Let us examine in its turn the physical process
which is supposed to be discovered in my nervous
centres while I am in course of contemplating the
landscape. This pretended physical process itself,
quite as much as my conscious perception of the
landscape, is a physico-psychical phenomenon;
for my cerebral movements are perceived, hypo-
thetically at least, by an observer. This is a
perception, consequently it can be decomposed
into two things, a consciousness and its object.
As a further consequence, when we wish, by a
metaphysical effort, to attach the consciousness
to a material state of the brain and to establish
a link between the two events, it will be found
that we wrongly hook one physico-mental pheno-
menon on to another.
But, evidently, this objection is not a refuta-
tion. We may if we choose suppose that the so-
called cerebral process is capable of subsisting at
moments when no one perceives it, and that it
exists of itself, is sufficient for itself, and is entirely
212
THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
physical But can we subject the mental process
of perception to the same purification? Can we
separate these two elements, the consciousness and
its object, retain the element consciousness and
reject the element object, which is physical, thus
constituting a phenomenon entirely mental, which
might then be possibly placed beside the entirely
physical phenomenon, so as to study their relation
to each other ? This is quite impossible, and the
impossibility is double, for it exists de facto and de
jure.
De jure, because we have already established
that a consciousness empty and without object
cannot be conceived. De facto, because the exist-
ence of the object that consciousness carries with
it is very embarrassing for the materialist; for
this object is material, and as real and material as
the fibres and cells of the brain. It might, indeed,
be supposed that by transformation or otherwise
there goes forth from the cerebral convolution a
purely psychical phenomenon resembling a wave.
But how can we conceive the transformation of
this convolution into a semi-material pheno-
menon? How can we comprehend that there
should issue from this convolution the material
object of a perception — for example, a plain dotted
with houses ?
An English histologist remarked one day, with
some eloquence, how little the most minute study
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 213
of the brain aided us to understand thought.
He was thus answering Auguste Comte, who, in
a moment of aberration, claimed that psychology,
in order to become a science, ought to reject the
testimony of the consciousness, and to use ex-
clusively as its means of study the histology of
the nerve centres and the measurement of the
cranium. Our histologist, who had passed part of
his life examining, under the microscope, frag-
ments of cerebral matter, in following the forms of
the cells, the course of the fibres, and the grouping
and distribution of the fascia, made the following
remark : " It is the fact that the study, however
patient, minute, and thorough it might be, of this
nerve-skein can never enable us to know what a
state of consciousness is, if we do not know it other-
wise ; for never across the field of the microscope
is there seen to pass a memory, an emotion, or an
act of volition." And, he added, " he who confines
himself to peering into these material structures
remains as ignorant of the phenomena of the
mind as the London cabman who, for ever tra-
velling through the streets of the great city, is
ignorant of what is said and what is going on
in the interior of the houses." This picturesque
comparison, the truth of which has never been
questioned, is based on this supposition, that the
psychical act is entirely immaterial and invisible,
and therefore escapes the piercing eye of the
214 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
microscope. But a deeper analysis of the mind
shows how little exact is this assertion. From
the moment each psychical act implies a material
object, we can ask ourselves two things: (i) Why
is it that the anatomist does not discover these
material objects in the interior of the brain?
We ought to see them, for they are material,
and therefore visible. We ought to see them
with their aspect and colour, or be able to explain
why they are not seen. In general, all that is
described to us in the brain is the molecular
vibrations. But we are not conscious of them.
Where, then, is that of which we are con-
scious? (2) It should next be explained to us
by what elaboration, transmutation, or metamor-
phosis a molecular disturbance, which is material,
can transform itself into the objects which are
equally material.
This is the criticism we have to address to
materialism. Until proof to the contrary, I hold
it to be irrefutable.
Parallelism
For this exposition to follow the logical order
of ideas, the discussion on materialism should
be immediately succeeded by that on parallelism.
These two doctrines are near akin ; they resemble
each other as the second edition of a book, revised
and corrected, resembles the first Parallelism
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 215
is the materialist doctrine of those forewarned
folk, who have perceived the errors committed
and endeavour to avoid them, while cherishing
all that can be saved of the condemned doctrine.
That which philosophers criticised in materialism
was the misunderstanding of the principle of
heterogeneity. The parallelists have seen this
mistake, and have taken steps to respect this
principle: we shall see in what way. They are
especially prudent, and they excel in avoiding
being compromised. They put forth their hypo-
thesis as a provisional one, and they vaunt its
convenience. It is, say they, a practical method
of avoiding many difficulties; it becomes for
philosophers an equivalent of that phrase which
so many timorous ministers repeat: "Above all,
no scrapes ! "
Let us study the exact point on which paral-
lelism has amended materialism. We have seen
that every materialist doctrine is the expression
of this idea, that physical phenomena are the only
ones that are determined, measurable, explicable,
and scientific. This idea does wonders in the
natural sciences, but is at fault when, from
the physical, we pass into the moral world,
and we have seen how the materialistic doctrine
fails when it endeavours to attach the physical
to the mental. There are then two great diffi-
culties which the materialistic explanation finds
216
THE BOND AND THE BRAIN
before it ; one is a difficulty of mechanism and
the other of genesis. By connecting the mind
with the brain, like a function to its organ, this
doctrine seeks to solve these two problems, and
with what little success we have seen.
Parallelism has tried to avoid these two problems;
not only does it not solve them, but it arranges so
as not to propound them. The expedient adopted
consists in avoiding the meeting of the physical
and the mental; instead of placing them end to
end and welding one to the other, they are placed
in parallel fashion side by side. To explain
their correlation, which so many observations
vaguely demonstrate, the following hypothesis
is advanced. Physical and psychical life form
two parallel currents, which never mingle their
waters; to every state of definite consciousness
there corresponds the counterpart of an equally
definite state of the nerve centres; the fact of
consciousness has its antecedents and its conse-
quences in the consciousness; and the physical
fact equally takes its place in a chain of physical
facts. The two series are thus evolved, and
correspond strictly to each other according to a
necessary law ; so that the scholar who was per-
fectly instructed, and to whom one of these states
was presented, could describe its fellow. But never
does any of the terms of one series influence the
terms of the other.
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 217
Observation and the testimony of the conscious-
ness seem to attest this dual progress ; but they
are, according to the parallelist hypothesis, illu-
sions. When I move my arm by a voluntary
act, it is not my will, qua act of consciousness,
which determines the movement of the arm —
for this is a material fact. The movement is
produced by the coming into play of groups of
muscles. Each muscle, composed of a semi-fluid
substance, being excited, contracts in the direction
of its greatest length. The excitant of the muscles
is also a material fact, a material influx which
starts from the motor cells of the encephalon, and
of which we know the course down through the
pyramidal fascium, the anterior roots of the spinal
cord, and the nerves of the periphery to its ter-
mination in the motor plates of the muscles. It is
this excitement which is the physical, direct, and
veritable cause of voluntary movements. And it
is the same with all acts and signs, all expressions
of our conscious states ; the trembling of fear, the
redness of anger, the movements of walking, down
to the words we utter— all these are physical effects
produced by physical processes, which act physi-
cally, and of which the mental counterpart has in
itself no effective action.
Let it be understood that I am here pointing
out one of the forms, and that the most usual, of
the parallelist theory. Each author varies it
218 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
according to his fancy; some widen the corre-
spondence between the physical and the moral,
others prefer to narrow it. At one time a vague
relation is supposed which is only true on a
large scale, and is a union rather than an equi-
valence. At another, it is an exact counterpart, a
complete duplicate in which the smallest physical
event corresponds to a mental one.
In one of the forms of this theory that has been
recently invented, parallelists have gone so far as
to assert that there exists no real cohesion in the
mental chain, and that no mental phenomenon
can have the property of provoking another
mental phenomenon by an act of true causality.
It is within the nervous tissue, they say, that the
nexus of psychic states should be enclosed. These
should succeed in time without being directly
connected with one another ; they should succeed
because the physical basis of them is excited in
succession. Some of them would be like an air on
the piano : the notes follow each other and arrange
themselves into melodies, not by any affinity proper
to themselves, but because the keys of the in-
strument are struck in the required order.
I said a little while ago that parallelism was a
perfected materialism. The reason of this will be
understood. It is a doctrine which preserves the
determinism of physical facts while avoiding the
compromising of itself in the difficult explanation
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 219
of the connection between the soul and the body.
It remains scientific without raising a metaphysical
Bain is one of those who have most clearly
expressed, not only the advantages, but also the
aspirations of this theory (Mind and Body, p.
130):—
" We have every reason for believing," he says,
"that there is in company with all our mental
processes, an unbroken material succession. From
the ingress of a sensation, to the outgoing responses
in action, the mental succession is not for an in-
stant dissevered from a physical succession. A
new prospect bursts upon the view; there is
mental result of sensation, emotion, thought —
terminating in outward displays of speech or
gesture. Parallel to this mental series is the
physical series of facts, the successive agitation
of the physical organs, called the eye, the retina,
the optic nerve, optic centres, cerebral hemi-
spheres, outgoing nerves, muscles, &c. While we
go the round of the mental circle of sensation,
emotion, and thought, there is an unbroken
physical circle of effects. It would be incom-
patible with everything we know of the cerebral
action, to suppose that the physical chain ends
abruptly in a physical void, occupied by an im-
material substance; which immaterial substance,
after working alone, imparts its results to the
220 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
other edge of the physical break, and determines
the active response — two shores of the material
with an intervening ocean of the immaterial
There is, in fact, no rupture of nervous con-
tinuity. The only tenable supposition is, that
mental and physical proceed together, as un-
divided twins."
On reading this passage it is easy to see the
idea which forms the basis of the doctrine. It is,
as I have already said, the fetichism of mechanics :
parallelism takes its inspiration from this quite as
directly as does materialism, but with more skill,
inasmuch as it avoids the most dangerous question,
that of the interaction of physics and morals, and
replaces it by an hypothesis much resembling
Leibnitz^s hypothesis of the pre-established har-
mony. On the other hand, a second merit of this
prudent doctrine is the avoiding the question of
genesis. It does not seek for the origin of thought,
but places this last in a relation of parallelism with
the manifestations of matter ; and in the same way
that parallel lines prolonged ad infinitum never
meet, so the partisans of this doctrine announce
their resolution not to inquire how the actual
state of things has been formed, nor how it will
end if, for example, one of the terms should dis-
appear by the death of the bodily organism.
Notwithstanding so many precautions, criticisms
have not been wanting ; only they would seem not
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 221
to have touched the weak part of the doctrine and
not to be decisive. We will only run through
them briefly.
It has been said: there is no logical necessity
which forces us to refuse to the consciousness the
privilege of acting in complete independence of the
nervous mechanism. «
It has also been said : it is by no means certain
that any nervous mechanism can be invented
which imitates and, if need were, could replace an
intellectual act. For instance, what association
of nerve cells, what molecular action, can imitate
an act of comparison which enables us to see a
resemblance between two objects ? Let it be sup-
posed, for example, that the resemblance of two
impressions come from a partial identity, and that
the latter has for material support an identity in
the seat or the form of the corresponding nervous
influx. But what is identity? How can it be
conceived without supposing resemblance, of which
it is but a form ? How, then, can the one be ex-
plained by the other ? Thus, for instance, at the
bottom of all our intellectual acts, there is a
certain degree of belief. Can any material com-
bination be found which corresponds thereto ?
There is one last objection, the most serious of all.
Parallelism, by establishing a fixed and invariable
relation between the physical and the moral, ends
by denying the rdle of this last, since the physical
222 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
mechanism is sufficient to draw to itself all the
effects which general belief attributes to the
moral. The parallelists on this point go very
much further than the materialists ; the latter at
least concede that the consciousness is of some
use, since they compared it to a function or a
secretion, and, after all, a secretion is a useful
liquid. The parallelists are so strongly convinced
that mechanism is alone efficacious that they
come to deny any r61e to thought. The con-
sciousness for them has no purpose : yet it keeps
company with its object. The metaphors which
serve to define it, part of which have been imagined
by Huxley, are all of a passive nature. Such is
the light, or the whistling noise which accom-
panies the working of an engine, but does not act
on its machinery. Or, the shadow which dogs
the steps of the traveller. Or a phosphorescence
lighting up the traces of the movements of the
brain.
It has also been said that the consciousness is
a useless luxury. Some have even gone further,
and the fine and significant name of epipheno-
Tnenon, that has been given to thought, well
translates that conception, according to which
semi-realities may exist in nature.
All these objections certainly carry great weight,
but they are not capable of killing the doctrine
— they only scotch it
MATERIALISM AND PARALLELISM 223
I think there is a radical vice in parallelism,
which till now has not been sufficiently indicated,
and I ask what can really remain of the whole
edifice when this vice has been once exposed ?
Parallelism implies a false idea, which we have
already come across when discussing materialism.
It is the idea that a phenomenon of consciousness
constitutes one complete whole.
The error proceeds from the use of concepts
which cause the reality to be lost sight of. The
reality shows that every phenomenon of con-
sciousness consists in a mode of activity, an aggre-
gate of faculties which require an object to fasten
on to and so realise themselves, and that this object
is furnished by matter. What we always note
in intuition is the union, the incarnation of con-
sciousness-matter. Our thoughts, our memories,
our reasonings have as object sensations, images —
that is to say, things which, strictly speaking,
are as material as our own brains. It is there-
fore rather ohildish to put all these workings of
the spirit on another plane and in another world
than the workings of the brain since they are
in great part of the same nature as the last
named and they contain so many material
elements. Now if we re-establish facts as they
are, if we admit a parallelism between physical
phenomena, on the one hand, and phenomena at
once physical and psychical, on the other, the
224 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
parallelist hypothesis loses every sort of meaning.
It ceases to present to us the image of two pheno-
mena of an absolutely different order, which are
found coupled together like the two faces of a
unity, the front and back of a page, the right
and wrong side of a stuff. If there is anything
material in the psychical part, the opposition of
nature no longer exists between the two terms;
they become identical.
Very often, certain parallelists, after thinking
they have discovered the duality of nature,
endeavour to bring it back to unity by sup-
posing that the two faces of the reality are as
two effects of one unique reality, inaccessible to
our senses and underlying appearances. Why
go so far afield to seek unity? It is trouble in
vain: for it is to be found in the phenomenon
itself.
CHAPTER IV
MODERN THEORIES
It may be thought that the objection taken
above to parallelism and materialism is personal
to myself, because I have put it forward as the
consequence of my analysis of the respective shares
of thought and matter in every act of cognition.
This is not so. I am here in harmony with other
philosophers who arrived at the same conclusions
long before me, and it may be useful to quote
them.
We will begin with the prince of idealists,
Berkeley. "'Everything you know or conceive
other than spirits/ says Philonous to Hylas, 'is
but your ideas; so then when you say that all
ideas are occasioned by impressions made in the
brain, either you conceive this brain or you do
not. If you conceive it, you are in that case talk-
ing of ideas imprinted in an idea which is the
cause of this very idea, which is absurd. If you
do not conceive it, you are talking unintelligibly,
you are not forming a reasonable hypothesis.'
' How can it be reasonable/ he goes on to say, ' to
think that the brain, which is a sensible thing, i.e.
a»5 p
226 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
which can be apprehended by the senses — an idea
consequently which only exists in the mind — is
the cause of our other ideas ? ' " 1
Thus, in the reasoning of Berkeley, the function
of the brain cannot explain the production of ideas,
because the brain itself is an idea, and an idea
cannot be the cause of all our other ideas.
M. Bergson's argument is quite similar, although
he takes a very different standpoint from that of
idealism. He takes the word image in the vaguest
conceivable sense. To explain the meaning of
this word he simply says : " images which are per-
ceived when I open my senses, and unperceived
when I close them." He also remarks that the ex-
ternal objects are images, and that the brain and
its molecular disturbances are likewise images.
And he adds, "For this image which I call
cerebral disturbance to generate the external
images, it would have to contain them in one way
or another, and the representation of the whole
material universe would have to be implicated
in that of this molecular movement. Now, it is
enough to enunciate such a proposition to reveal
its absurdity." 2
1 I borrow this quotation from Rrnouvieb, Le Pertonndlitmt,
p. 263.
8 McUiire et MSmoire, p. 3. The author has returned to this
point more at length in a communication to the Congres de
Philosophic de Geneve, in 1904. See Revue de Mitapkytique et
de Morale, Nov. 1904, communication from H. Bebgson entitled
"Le Paralogi8me psycho-physiologique." Here is a passage
MODERN THEORIES
227
It will be seen that this reasoning is the same
as Berkeley's, though the two authors are reason-
ing on objects that are different; according to
Berkeley, the brain and the states of conscience
are psychical states; according to Bergson, the
definition of the nature of these two objects desig-
nated by the term image is more comprehensive,
but the essential of his argument is independent
of this definition It is enough that the two
terms should be of similar nature for one to
be unable to generate the other.
My own argument in its turn comes rather
near the preceding ones. For the idea of Berkeley,
and the image of Bergson, I substitute the term
matter. I say that the brain is matter, and that
the perception of any object is perception of
matter, and I think it is not easy to explain how
from this brain can issue this perception, since
that would be to admit that from one matter
may come forth another matter. There is cer-
tainly here a great difficulty.
from this article which expresses the same idea: 41 To say that
the image of the surrounding world issues from this image (from
the cerebral movement), or that it expresses itself by this image,
or that it arises as soon as this image is suggested, or that one
gives it to one's self by giving one's self this image, would be to
contradict one's self ; since these two images, the outer world
and the intra-cerebral movement, have been supposed to be of
the same nature, and the second image is, by the hypothesis, an
infinitesimal part of the field of representation, while the first
fills the whole of it."
228 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
M. Bergson has thought to overcome it by
attacking it in the following way. He has the
very ingenious idea of changing the position of
the representation in relation to the cerebral move-
ment. The materialist places the representation
after this movement and derives it from the move-
ment ; the parallolist places it by the side of the
movement and in equivalence to it. M. Bergson
places it before the movement, and supposes it to
play with regard to it the part of exciting cause,
or simply that of initiator. This cerebral move-
ment becomes an effect of the representation and
a motor effect. Consequently the nervous system
passes into the state of motor organ ; the sensory
nerves are not, as supposed, true sensory nerves,
but they are the commencements of motor nerves,
the aim of which is to lead the motor excitements
to the centres which play the part of commutators
and direct the current, sometimes by one set of
nerves, sometimes by others. The nervous system
is like a tool held in the hand ; it is a vehicle for
action, we are told, and not a substratum for cog-
nition. I cannot here say with what ingenuity,
with what powerful logic, and with what close
continuity of ideas M. Bergson develops his
system, nor with what address he braves its
difficulties.
His mind is remarkable alike for its power of
systematisation and its suppleness of adaptation.
MODERN THEORIES
229
Before commencing to criticise him, I am anxious
to say how much I admire him, how much I agree
with him throughout the critical part of his work,
and how much I owe to the perusal of his book,
Mati&re et M&mmre. Though I was led into meta-
physics by private needs, though some of the ideas
I have set forth above were conceptions of my
own (for example, the criticism of the mechanical
theory of matter, and the definition of sensation),
before I had read M. Bergson's book, it cannot be
denied that its perusal has so strongly modified
my ideas that a great part of these are due
to him without my feeling capable of exactly
discerning which ; for ideas have a much more im-
personal character than observations and experi-
ments. It would therefore have been ungrateful
to criticise him before having rendered him this
tribute.
There are, in M. Bergson's theory, a few asser-
tions which surprise us a little, like everything
which runs counter to old habits. It has always
been supposed that our body is the receptacle of
our psychological phenomena. We store our remi-
niscences in our nerve centres ; we put the state
of our emotions in the perturbations of certain
apparatus; we find the physical basis of our
efforts of will and of attention in the sensa-
tions of muscular tension born in our limbs or
trunk. Directly we believe that the nervous
230 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
system is no longer the depository of these states,
we must change their domicile; and where are
they to be placed? Here the theory becomes
obscure and vague, and custom renders it difficult
to understand the situation of the mind outside
the body. M. Bergson places memory in planes
of consciousness far removed from action, and
perception he places in the very object we
perceive.
If I look at my bookcase, my thought is in my
books; if I look at the sky, my thought is in a
star. 1 It is very difficult to criticise ideas such
as these, because one is never certain that one
understands them. I will therefore not linger
over them, notwithstanding the mistrust which
they inspire in me.
But what seems to me to require proof is the
function M. Bergson is led to attribute to the
sensory nerves. To his mind, it is not exact to
say that the excitement of a sensory nerve ex-
cites sensation. This would be a wrong descrip-
tion, for, according to him, every nerve, even a
sensory one, serves as a motor ; it conducts the dis-
turbance which, passing through the central com-
mutator, flows finally into the muscles. But then,
whence comes it that I think I feel a sensation when
my sensory nerve is touched ? Whence comes it
that a pressure on the epitrochlear nerve gives me
1 MatUre et MSmoirt, p. 31
MODERN THEORIES
231
a tingling in the hand ? Whence comes it that a
blow on the eyeball gives me a fleeting impression
of light? One must read the page where M.
Bergson struggles against what seems to me the
evidence of the facts. " If, for one reason or an-
other," he says, " the excitement no longer passes,
it would be strange if the corresponding perception
took place, since this perception would then put
our body in relation with points of space which
would no longer invite it to make a choice. Divide
the optic nerve of any animal; the disturbance
starting from the luminous point is no longer
transmitted to the brain, and thence to the motor
nerves. The thread which connected the external
object to the motor mechanism of the animal by
enveloping the optic nerve, is severed ; the visual
perception has therefore become powerless, and in
this powerlessness consists unconsciousness." This
argument is more clever than convincing. It
is not convincing, because it consists in exagge-
rating beyond all reason a very real fact, that of
the relation which can be discovered between our
sensations and our movements. We believe, with
M. Bergson, that it is absolutely correct to see in
action the end and the raison tfitre of our intel-
ligence and our sensibility. But does it follow
that every degree, every shade, every detail of
sensation, even the most insignificant, has any
importance for the action? The variations of
232 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
sensibility are much more numerous than those of
movements and of adaptation; very probably, as
is seen in an attentive study of infancy, sensibility
precedes the power of motion in its differentia-
tions. A child shows an extraordinary acuteness
of perception at an age when its hand is still very
clumsy. The correlation, then, is not absolute.
And then even if it were so, it would not follow
that the suppression of any movement would pro-
duce by rebound the suppression of the sensation
to which this movement habitually corresponds.
On this hypothesis, a sensation which loses its
motor effect becomes useless. Be it so ; but this
does not prove that the uselessness of a sen-
sation is synonymous with insensibility. I can
very well imagine the movement being suppressed
and the useless sensation continuing to evoke
images and to be perceived. Does not this
occur daily? There are patients who, after an
attack of paralysis remain paralysed in one
limb, which loses the voluntary movement, but
does not necessarily lose its sensibility. Many
clear cases are observed in which this dissociation
takes place.
I therefore own that I cannot follow M. Bergson
in his deduction. As a physiologist, I am obliged
to believe firmly in the existence of the sensory
nerves, and therefore I continue to suppose that
our conscious sensations are consequent to the
MODERN THEORIES
233
excitement of these nerves and subordinate to
their integrity. Now, as therein lies, unless I
mistake, the essential postulate, the heart of M.
Bergson's theory, by not admitting it I must
regretfully reject the whole.
CHAPTER V
CONCLUSION
A few convinced materialists and parallelists, to
whom I have read the above criticisms on their
systems, have found no answer to them ; my criti-
cisms have appeared to them just, but nevertheless
they have continued to abide by their own systems,
probably because they were bound to have one.
We do not destroy an erroneous idea when we do
not replace it by another.
This has decided me to set forth some personal
views which, provisionally, and for want of better,
might be substituted for the old doctrines. Before
doing this, I hasten to explain their character, and
to state openly that they are only hypotheses.
I know that metaphysicians rarely make avowals
of this kind. They present their systems as a
well-connected whole, and they set forth its
different parts, even the boldest of them, in the
same dogmatic tone, and without warning that we
ought to attach very unequal degrees of con-
fidence to these various parts. This is a deplorable
method, and to it is perhaps due the kind of dis-
dain that observers and experimentalists feel for
•34
CONCLUSION
235
metaphysics — a disdain often without justifica-
tion, for all is not false, and everything is not
hypothetical, in metaphysics. There are in it
demonstrations, analyses, and criticisms, especially
the last, which appear to me as exact and as cer-
tain as an observation or experiment. The mistake
lies in mixing up together in a statement, without
distinction, the certain with the probable, and the
probable with the possible.
Metaphysicians are not wholly responsible for
this fault of method; and I am much inclined to
think that it is the natural consequence of the
abuse of speculation. It is especially by the
cultivation of the sciences of observation that we
foster in ourselves the precious sense of proof,
because we can check it any minute by experi-
mental verification. When we are working at a
distance from the facts, this sense of proof gets
thinner, and there is lost that feeling of responsi-
bility and fear of seeing one's assertions contra-
dicted by a decisive countervailing observation,
which is felt by every observer. One acquires the
unbearable pride which I note in Kant, and one
abandons one's self to the spirit of construction.
I am speaking from personal experience. I have
several times detected within me this bad spirit
of construction. I have been seeking to group
several facts of observation under the same idea,
and then I have discovered that I was belittling
236 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
and depreciating those facts which did not fit in
with the idea.
The hypothesis I now present on the relations of
the mind and the brain has, for me, the advantage
of bringing to light the precise conditions which a
solution of this great problem must satisfy for this
solution to be worthy of discussion.
These conditions are very numerous. I shall
not indicate them all successively; but here are
two which are particularly important
i. The manifestations of the consciousness are
conditioned by the brain. Let us suspend, by any
means, the activity of the encephalic mass, by
arresting the circulation of the blood for example,
and the psychic function is at once inhibited.
Compress the carotid, and you obtain the clouding-
over of the intellect. Or, instead of a total aboli-
tion, you can have one in detail ; sever a sensory
nerve with the bistoury, and all the sensations which
that nerve transmits to the brain are suppressed.
Consciousness appears only when the molecular
disturbance reaches the nerve centres ; everything
takes place in the same way as if this disturbance
released the consciousness. Consciousness also
accompanies or follows certain material states of
the nerve centres, such as the waves which traverse
the sensory nerves, which exercise reflex action in
the cells, and which propagate themselves in the
motor nerves. It is to the production, the dis-
CONCLUSION
237
tribution, and the integrity of this nervous influx
that the consciousness is closely linked. It there
finds one of the conditions of its apparition.
2. On the other hand, the consciousness re-
mains in complete ignorance of these intra-
cerebral phenomena. It does not perceive the
nerve-wave which sets it in motion, it knows
nothing of its peculiarities, of its trajectory, or the
length of its course. In this sense it may be said
that it is in no degree an anatomist; it has no
idea of all the peculiarities of the nerve-wave
which form part of its cerebral history from the
moment when these peculiarities are out of re-
lation with the properties of external objects.
One sometimes wonders that our conscious-
ness is not aware that the objects we perceive
with our two eyes correspond to a double un-
dulation, namely, that of the right and that of
the left, and that the image is reversed on the
retina, so that it is the rods of the right which are
impressed by objects on our left, and the rods of
the upper part by objects below our eyes. These
are, it has been very justly said, factitious prob-
lems, imaginary difficulties which do not exist.
There is no need to explain, for instance, direct
vision by a reversed image, because our conscious-
ness is not aware that the image on the retina is
reversed. In order to take account of this, we
should require another eye to see this image.
238 THE MIND AND THB BRAIN
This answer appears particularly to the point. It
will be found that it is absolutely correct if we
reflect that this case of the unfelt inversion of the
image on the retina is but one example of the
anatomical ignorance of the consciousness.
It might also be declared, in the same order of
ideas, that our consciousness is ignorant, that ex-
citements of the eye cross each other at the level
of the chiasma, and pass through the internal
capsule, and that the majority of the visual ex-
citements of an eye are received by the opposite
hemisphere.
A rather confused notion of these facts has
formed itself in the minds of several critics, and
I can discern the proof of this in the language
they use. It will be said, for example, that the
idea exists in the consciousness or in the mind,
and phrases like the following will be avoided:
"I think with my brain" — the suggestion con-
sists in introducing an idea in the brain — "The
nerve cell perceives and reasons, &c." Ordi-
narily these forms of speech are criticised because
they appear to have the defect of establishing a
confusion between two irreducible elements, the
physical and the mental. I think the error of
language proceeds from another cause, since I do
not admit this distinction between the physical
and the mental I think that the error consists
in supposing vaguely that the consciousness com-
CONCLUSION
239
prehends intra-cerebral phenomena, whereas it
ignores them.
Let me repeat that there is no such thing as
intra-cerebral sensibility. The consciousness is
absolutely insensitive with regard to the disposi-
tions of the cerebral substance and its mode of
work. It is not the nervous undulation which
our consciousness perceives, but the exciting cause
of this wave — that is, the external object. The
consciousness does not feel that which is quite
close to it, but is informed of that which passes
much further off. Nothing that is produced
inside the cranium interests it; it is solely oc-
cupied with objects of which the situation is
extra-cranial. It does not penetrate into the
brain, we might say, but spreads itself like a
sheet over the periphery of the body, and thence
springs into the midst of the external objects.
There is, therefore, I do not say a contradiction,
but a very striking contrast between these two
facts. The consciousness is conditioned, kept up,
and nourished by the working of the cerebral
substance, but knows nothing of what passes in
the interior of that substance. This conscious-
ness might itself be compared to a parasitical
organism which plunges its tap roots into the
nerve centres, and of which the organs of
perception, borne on long stalks, emerge from
the cranium and perceive everything outside
240 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
that cranium. But this is, of course, only a
rough image.
Strictly, it is possible to explain this distribution
of the conscience, singular as it is at first sight,
by those reasons of practical utility which are so
powerful in the history of evolution.
A living being has to know the world external
to himself in order to adapt and preadapt himself
to it, for it is in this outer world that he finds
food, shelter, beings of his own species, and the
means of work, and it is on this world of objects
that he acts in every possible way by the con-
tractions of his muscles. But with regard to
intraccphalic actions, they are outside the ordi-
nary sphere of our actions. There is no daily
need to know them, and we can understand that
the consciousness has not found very pressing
utilitarian motives for development in that direc-
tion. One must be an histologist or a surgeon
to find an appreciable interest in studying the
structure of the nerve cell or the topography of
the cerebral centres.
We can therefore explain well enough, by the
general laws of adaptation, the reason of the
absence of what might be called " cerebral sensi-
bility," but, here as elsewhere, the question of the
" Why " is much easier to solve than that of the
" How."
The question of the "How" consists in ex-
CONCLUSION 241
plaining that the consciousness, directly aroused
by a nerve-wave, does not perceive this undula-
tion, but in its stead the external object. Let us
first note that between the external object and
the nervous influx there is the relation of cause
to effect. It is only the effect which reaches us,
our nerve cells, and our consciousness. What
must be explained is how a cognition (if such
a word may be employed here) of the effect
can excite the consciousness of the cause. It is
clear that the effect does not resemble the cause,
as quality: the orange I am looking at has no
resemblance with the brain wave which at this
moment is traversing my optic nerve; but this
effect contains everything which was in the cause,
or, more exactly, all that part of the cause of which
we have perception. Since it is only by the inter-
mediary of our nervous system that we perceive
the object, all the properties capable of being per-
ceived are communicated to our nervous system
and inscribed in the nerve wave. The effect pro-
duced therefore is the measure of our perception
of the cause. This is absolutely certain. All
bodies possess an infinity of properties which
escape our cognitions ; because, as excitants of our
organism, these properties are wanting in the in-
tensity or the quality necessary to make it vibrate;
they have not been tuned in unison with our
nervous chords. And, inversely, all we perceive
Q
242 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
of the mechanical, physical, and chemical pro-
perties of a body is contained in the vibra-
tion this body succeeds in propagating through
our cerebral atmosphere. There is in this a
phenomenon of transmission analogous to that
which is produced when an air of music is sent
along a wire ; the whole concert heard at the other
extremity of the wire has travelled in the form of
delicate vibrations.
There must therefore exist, though unperceived
by our senses, a sort of kinship between the
qualities of the external objects and the vibrations
of our nerves. This is sometimes forgotten. The
theory of the specific energy of the nerves causes
it to be overlooked. As we see that the quality of
the sensation depends on the nerve that is excited,
one is inclined to minimise the importance of the
excitant. It is relegated to the position of a
proximate cause with regard to the vibration of
the nerve, as the striking of a key on the piano
is the proximate cause of the vibration of a string,
which always gives the same degree of sound
whether struck by the forefinger or third finger,
or by a pencil or any other body. It will be seen
at once that this comparison is inexact. The
specific property of our nerves does not prevent
our knowing the form of the excitant, and our
nerves are only comparable to piano strings if
we grant to these the property of vibrating dif-
CONCLUSION 243
ferently according to the nature of the bodies
which strike them.
How is it that the nerve wave, if it be the
depository of the whole of the physical properties
perceived in the object, resembles it so little ? It
is because — this is my hypothesis — these pro-
perties, if they are in the undulation, are not
there alone. The undulation is the work of two
collaborators : it expresses both the nature of the
object which provokes it and that of the nervous
apparatus which is its vehicle. It is like the
farrow traced in the wax of the phonograph which
expresses the collaboration of an aerial vibration
with a stylus, a cylinder, and a clock-work move-
ment. This engraved line resembles, in short,
neither the phonographic apparatus nor the aerial
vibration, although it results from the combination
of the two.
Similarly, I suppose that if the nervous vibration
resembles so little the excitant which gives it birth,
it is because the factor nervous system adds its
effect to the factor external object. Each of these
factors represents a different property : the exter-
nal object represents a cognition and the nervous
system an excitement.
Let us imagine that we succeed in separating
these two effects It will be conceived, theoretically,
that a separation of this kind- will lay bare the
hidden resemblances, giving to each collaborator
244 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
the part which belongs to it. The excitement,
for instance, will be suppressed, and the cognition
will be retained. Is it possible to make, or at least
to imagine, such an analysis? Perhaps: for, of
these two competing activities, one is variable,
since it depends on the constantly changing
nature of the objects which come into relation
with us; the other, on the contrary, is a con-
stant, since it expresses the contribution of our
nerve substance, and, though this last is of very
unstable composition, it necessarily varies much
less than the series of excitants. We consequently
see faintly that these two elements differ suf-
ficiently in character for us to be able to suppose
that they are separable by analysis.
But how could this analysis be made ? Evidently
not by chemical or physical means: we have no
need here of reagents, prisms, centrifugal appa-
ratus, permeable membranes, or anything of
that kind. It will suffice to suppose that it is
the consciousness itself that is the dialyser. It
acts by virtue of its own laws — that is to say, by
changes in intensity. Supposing that sensibility
increases for the variable elements of the undu-
lation, and becomes insensible for the constant
elements. The effect will be the same as a
material dissociation by chemical analysis : there
will be an elimination of certain elements and
the retention of others.
CONCLUSION 245
Now, all we know of the consciousness autho-
rises us to entrust this role to it, for it is within
the range of its habits. We know that change
is the law of consciousness, that it is effaced when
the excitements are uniform, and is renewed by
their differences or their novelty. A oontinued
or too often repeated excitement ceases in time
to be perceived. It is to condense these facts
into a formula that Bain speaks of the law 'of
relativity of cognition, and, in spite of a few am-
biguities on the part of Spencer and of Bain him-
self in the definition of this law, 1 the formula
with the sense I have just indicated is worth
preserving.
Let us see what becomes of it, when my hypo-
thesis is adopted. It explains how certain excite-
ments proceeding from the objects — that is to say,
forming part of the variable element — cease to
be perceived when they are repeated and tend
to become constant. A fortiori, it seems to me,
should the same law explain how the constant
element par excellence, the one which never varies
from the first hour, is never perceived. There is,
in the concert of the sounds of nature, an accom-
paniment so monotonous that it is no longer per-
1 The iquivoque perpetrated by Bain and Spenceb consists
in supposing that the consciousness bears solely on differences.
This is going too far. I confine myself to admitting that, if
sensation is not changed from time to time, the consciousness
becomes weaker and disappears.
246 THE BOND AND THE BRAIN
ceived, and the melody alone continues to be
heard.
It is in this precisely that my hypothesis con-
sists. We will suppose a nerve current starting
from one of the organs of the senses, when it is
excited by some object or other, and arriving at
the centre of the brain. This current contains
all the properties of the object, its colour, its form,
its size, its thousand details of structure, its
weight, its sonorous qualities, &c, &c, properties
combined with and connected by the properties
of the nerve-organ in which the current is propa-
gated. The consciousness remains insensible to
those nervous properties of the current which are
so often repeated that they are annulled; it per-
ceives, on the contrary, its variable and accidental
properties which express the nature of the ex-
citant. By this partial sensibility, the conscious-
ness lays bare that which, in the nerve current,
represents the object — that is to say, a cognition ;
and this operation is equivalent to a transforma-
tion of the current into a perception, image, or
idea. There is not, strictly speaking, a transforma-
tion, but an analysis ; only, the practical result is
the same as that of a transformation, and is ob-
tained without its being necessary to suppose
the transmutation of a physical into a mental
phenomenon.
Let us place ourselves now at the moment when
CONCLUSION 247
the analysis I am supposing to be possible has just
been effected. Our consciousness then assists at
the unrolling of representations which correspond
to the outer world. These representations are
not, or do not appear to be, lodged in the brain ;
and it is not necessary to suppose a special opera-
tion which, taking them in the brain, should pro-
ject them to the periphery of our nerves. This
transport would be useless, since for the conscious-
ness the brain does not exist : the brain, with its
fibres and cells, is not felt ; it therefore supplies no
datum to enable us to judge whether the repre-
sentation is external or internal with regard to it.
In other words, the representation is only localised
in relation to itself; there is no determinate
position other than that of one representation in
relation to another. We may therefore reject as
inexact the pretended law of eccentricity of the
physiologists, who suppose that sensation is first
perceived as it were centrally, and then, by an
added act, is localised at the peripheric extremity
of the nerve. This argument would only be
correct if we admitted that the brain is per-
ceived by the consciousness of the brain. I have
already said that the consciousness is not an
anatomist, and that therefore this problem does
not present itself.
Such as it is, this hypothesis appears to me to
present the advantage of explaining the reason
248 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
why our consciousness coincides, in certain cir-
cumstances, with the actions of the brain, and,
in others, does not come near them. In other
words, it contains an explanation of the un-
conscious. I can show this by quoting certain
exact facts, of which the explanation has been
hitherto thought to present difficulties, but which
become very easy to understand on the present
hypothesis. The first of these facts relates to the
psychology of the motor current. This current
has been a great feature in the studies which
have been made on the feeling of effort and
on the physical basis of the will. The motor
current is that which, starting from the cere-
bral cells of the motor region, travels by way of
the fibres of the pyramidal tract into the muscles
of the body; and it is centrifugal in direction.
Researches have been made as to whether we are
or may be conscious of this current; or rather,
the question has been put in somewhat different
terms. It has been asked whether a psychological
state can be the counterpart of this motor current,
— if, for example, the feeling of mental effort pro-
duced in us at the moment of executing a difficult
act or of taking a grave resolution, might not have
this motor current for a basis.
The opinion which has prevailed is in the nega-
tive. We have recognised — a good deal on the
faith of experiment, and a little also for theoretical
CONCLUSION
249
reasons — that no sensation is awakened by the
centrifugal current. As to the sensation of effort,
it has been agreed to place it elsewhere. We
put it among the centripetal sensations which
are produced as the movement outlines itself,
and which proceed from the contracted muscles,
the stretched ligaments, and the frictional
movements of the articulations. Effort would
therefore form part of all the psychical phe-
nomenology, which is the duplicate of those
sensory currents which are centripetal in
direction.
In the long run, I can see no sort of theoretical
reason for subordinating the consciousness to the
direction of the nerve current, and for supposing
that the consciousness is aroused when this
current is centripetal, and that it cannot follow
the centrifugal current. But this point matters
little. My hypothesis would fairly well explain
why the motor current remains unconscious; it
explains the affair by taking into consideration
the nature of this current and not its direction.
This current is a motor one because it is born in
the central cells, because it is a discharge from
these cells, and is of entirely nervous origin. Since
it does not correspond with the perception of an
object — the ever varying object — it is always the
same by nature. It does not carry with it in its
monotonous course the cUbris of an object, as does
250 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
the sensory current. Thus it can flow without
consciousness.
This same kind of hypothesis supplies us with
the reasons why a given sensory current may be,
according to circumstances, either conscious or
unconscious. The consciousness resulting from
the analysis of the molecular wave is, as it were,
a supplementary work which may be subsequently
added to the realised wave. The propagation of
the wave is the essential fact — there is always
time to become conscious of it afterwards. It is
thus that we happen, in moments of abstraction,
to remain insensible to certain even very powerful
excitements. Our nervous system registers them,
nevertheless, and we can find them again, later
on, within the memory. This is the effect of a
belated analysis.
The converse phenomenon occurs much more
frequently. We remark many actions and percep-
tions which occur the first time with conscious-
ness, emotion, and effort. Then, when they are
repeated, as coordination becomes stronger and
easier, the reflex consciousness of the operation
becomes feebler. This is the law of habit, which
slowly carries us towards automatism. These
observations have even been extended, and the
endeavour made to apply them to the explana-
tion of the origin of reflex actions and of instincts
which have all started with consciousness. This
CONCLUSION 251
is a rather bold attempt, for it meets with many
serious difficulties in execution; but the idea
seems fairly correct, and is acceptable if we may
limit it. It is certain that the consciousness ac-
companies the effort towards the untried, and
perishes as soon as it is realised. Whence comes
this singular dilemma propounded to it by
nature: to create something new or perish? It
really seems that my hypothesis explains this.
Every new act is produced by nerve currents,
which contain many of those variable elements
which the consciousness perceives; but, in pro-
portion as the action of the brain repeats itself
and becomes more precise and more exact, this
variable element becomes attenuated, falls to its
lowest pitch, and may even disappear in the fixa-
tion of habit and instinct.
My hypothesis much resembles the system of
parallelism. It perfects it, as it seems to me, as
much as the latter has perfected materialism.
We indeed admit a kind of parallelism between
the consciousness and the object of cognition ; but
these two series are not independent, not simply
placed in juxtaposition as is possible in ordinary
parallelism; they are united and fused together
so as to complete each other. This new theory
appears to me to represent a better form of the
series of attempts which have been inspired by the
common necessity of making the phenomena of
252 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
consciousness accord with the determinism of
physical facts.
I hold fast to this physical determinism, and
accept a strictly mechanical conception of the
functions of the nervous system. In my idea>
the currents which pass through the cerebral mass
follow each other without interruption, from the
sensorial periphery to the motor periphery ; it is
they, and they alone, which excite the movements
of the body by acting on the muscles. Parallelism
recognises all these things, and I do likewise.
Let us now see the advantages of this new
system. First, it contains no paralogism, no logical
or psychological error, since it does not advance
the supposition that the mental differs by its
nature from the physical phenomenon. We have
discussed above the consequences of this error.
They are here avoided. In the second place, it
is explanatory, at least in a certain measure,
since the formula we employ allows us to under-
stand, better than by the principle of a simple
juxtaposition, why certain nerve currents flow
in the light of consciousness, while others are
plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.
This law of consciousness, which Bain called
the law of relativity, becomes, when embodied
with my theory of the relations of the physical to
the moral, an explanation of the distribution of
consciousness through the actions of the brain.
CONCLUSION
253
I ask myself whether the explanation I have
devised ought to be literally preserved. Perhaps
not. I have endeavoured less to present a ready-
made solution than to indicate the direction in
which we ought to look for one. The law of con-
sciousness which I have used to explain the
transformation of a nerve current into perception
and images is only an empirical law produced
by the generalisation of particular observations.
Until now there has been, so far as I know, no
attempt to ascertain whether this law of con-
sciousness, notwithstanding the general nature
which some authors incline to ascribe to it, might
not explain itself by some more general facts,
and might not fit, as a particular case, into a more
comprehensive frame. To be brief, this is very
possible. I have not troubled myself about it,
and I have made a transcendental use of this
empirical law; for I have impliedly supposed it
to be a first principle, capable of accounting for
the development of the consciousness, but itself
incapable of explanation.
If other observers discover that that which to
me has appeared inexplicable, may be explained
by quite peculiar causes, it is clear that my theory
must be abandoned or modified. New theories must
then be sought for, which will probably consist in
recognising different properties in the conscious-
ness. A little thought will discover several, I have
254 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
no doubt. By way of suggestion, I will indicate
one of these hypothetical possibilities : " The con-
sciousness has the faculty of reading in the effect
that which existed in the cause/ 1 It is not rash
to believe that by working out this idea, a certain
solution would be discovered. Moreover, the
essential is, I repeat, less to find a solution than
to take account of the point which requires one ;
and metaphysics seem to me especially useful
when it shows us where the gap in our know-
ledge exists and what are the conditions required
to fill this gap.
Above all, I adhere to this idea, which has been
one of the guiding forces of this book: there
exists at the bottom of all the phenomena of the
intelligence! a duality. To form a true pheno-
menon, there must be at once a consciousness and
an object. According to passing tendencies, either
of temperament or of fashion, preponderance has
been given sometimes to one of the terms of this
couple, sometimes to the other. The idealist
declares: "Thought creates the world." The
materialist answers: "The matter of the brain
creates thought." Between these two extreme
opinions, the one as unjustifiable as the other
in the excesses they commit, we take up an
intermediate position. Looking at the balance,
we see no argument capable of being placed in
the scale of the consciousness which may not be
CONCLUSION
255
neutralised by an argument placed in the scale
of the object; and if we had to give our final
verdict we should say: "The consciousness and
matter have equal rights," thus leaving to every
one the power to place, in this conception of an
equality of rights, the hopes of survival of which
his heart has need.
CHAPTER VI
RECAPITULATION
I ask permission to reproduce here a communica-
tion made by me in December 1904 to the Soci£t6
Fran9aise de Philosophic. I there set forth
briefly the ideas which I have just developed in
this book. This succinct exposi may be useful as
a recapitulation of the argument.
Description of Matter. — The physicists who are
seeking for a conception of the inmost structure of
matter in order to explain the very numerous
phenomena they perceive, fancy they can connect
them with other phenomena, less numerous, but of
the same order. They thus consider matter in
itself.
We psychologists add to matter something
more, viz. the observer. We consider matter and
define it by its relations to our modes of know-
ledge — that is to say, by bearing in mind that it
is conditioned by our external perception. These
are two different points of view.
In developing our own standpoint, we note that
of the outer world we are acquainted with nothing
356
RECAPITULATION 257
but our sensations : if we propound this limit, it is
because many observations and experiments show
that, between the external object and ourselves,
there is but one intermediary, the nervous system,
and that we only perceive the modifications which
the external object, acting as an excitant, provokes
in this system.
Let us provisionally apply to these modifica-
tions the term sensations, without settling the
question of their physical or mental nature.
Other experiments, again, prove "to us that our
sensations are not necessarily similar to the objects
which excite them ; for the quality of each sensa-
tion depends on what is called the specific energy
of the nerve excited. Thus, whether the optic
nerve be appealed to by a ray of light, an electric
current, or a mechanical shock, it always gives the
same answer, and this answer is the sensation of
light.
It follows that our nervous system itself is
only known to us as regards its structure by the
intermediary of sensations, and we are not other-
wise more informed upon its nature than upon
that of any other object whatever.
In the second place, a much more serious con-
sequence is that all our sensations being equally
false, so far as they are copies of the excitants
which provoke them, one has no right to use
any of these sensations to represent to ourselves
258 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
the inmost structure of matter. The theories to
which many physicists still cling, which consist
in explaining all the modalities of matter by dif-
ferent combinations of movement, start from false
premises. Their error consists in explaining the
whole body of our sensations by certain parti-
cular sensations of the eye, of the touch, and of
the muscular sense, in which analysis discovers
the elements and the source of the representation
of motion. Now these particular sensations have
no more objective value than those of the tongue,
of the nose, and of the ear ; in so far as they are
related to the external excitant of which it is
sought to penetrate the inmost nature, one of them
is as radically false as the other.
It is true that a certain number of persons will
think to escape from our conclusion, because they
do not accept our starting point. There exist, in
fact, several systems which propound that the
outer world is known to us directly without the
intermediary of a tertivm quid, that is, of sensation.
In the first place, the spiritists are convinced that
disembodied souls can remain spectators of terres-
trial life, and, consequently, can perceive it without
the interposition of organs. On the other hand,
some German authors have recently maintained,
by rather curious reasoning, that the specific
energy of our nervous system does not transform
the excitants, and that our sensations are the
RECAPITULATION
259
faithful copies of that which causes them. Finally,
various philosophers, Reid, Hamilton, and, in our
own days, the deep and subtle mind of M. Bergson,
have proposed to admit that by direct compre-
hension we have cognisance of the objects without
mystery and as they are. Let this be admitted.
It will change nothing in our conclusions, and for
the following reasons.
We have said that no kind of our sensations —
neither the visual, the tactile, nor the muscular —
permits us to represent to ourselves the inmost
structure of matter, because all sensations, without
exception, are false, as copies of material objects.
We are now assured that we are mistaken, and
that our sensations are all true — that is to say, are
faithful copies of the objects. If all are true, it
comes to the same thing as if all are false. If all
are true, it is impossible to make any choice
among them, to retain only the sensations of sight
and touch, and to use them in the construction of a
mechanical theory, to the exclusion of tlie others.
For it is impossible for us to explain some by the
others. If all are equally true, they all have the
same right to represent the structure of matter,
and, as they are irreconcilable, no theory can be
formed from their synthesis.
Let us, consequently, conclude this: whatever
hypothesis may be built up on the relations
possibly existing between matter and our sensa-
26o THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
tions, we are forbidden to make a theory of matter
in the terms of our sensations.
That is what I think of matter, understood as
the inmost structure of bodies — of unknowable
and metaphysical matter. I shall not speak of
it again; and henceforth when I use the word
matter, it will be in quite a different acceptation
— it will be empirical and physical matter, such
as it appears to us in our sensations. It must
therefore be understood that from this moment
we change our ground. We leave the world of
nowmena and enter that of phenomena.
Definition of Mind. — Generally, to define the
mind, we oppose the concept of mind to the con-
cept of matter, with the result that we get extremely
vague images in our thoughts. It is preferable to
replace the concepts by facts, and to proceed to
an inventory of all mental phenomena.
Now, in the coarse of this inventory, we per-
ceive that we have continually to do with two
orders of elements, which are united in reality,
but which our thought may consider as isolated.
One of these elements is represented by those
states which we designate by the name of sensa-
tions, images, emotions, &c. ; the other element is
the consciousness of these sensations, the cogni-
tion of these images, the fact of experiencing these
emotions. It is, in other words, a special activity
RECAPITULATION
of which these states are the object and, as it
were, the point of application — an activity which
consists in perceiving, judging, comparing, under-
standing, and willing. To make our inventory
orderly, let us deal with these two elements
separately and begin with the first
We will first examine sensation : let us put aside
that which is the fact of feeling, and retain that
which is felt. Thus defined and slightly con-
densed, what is sensation? Until now we have
employed the word in the very vague sense of a
tertium quid interposed between the object and
ourselves. Now we have to be more precise, and
to inquire whether sensation is a physical or a
mental thing. I need not tell you that on this
point every possible opinion has been held. My
own opinion is that sensation should be considered
as a physical phenomenon ; sensation, be it under-
stood, in the sense of impression felt, and not in
that of capacity to feeL
Here are the arguments I invoke for the support
of my thesis : in the first place, popular opinion,
which identifies matter with what we see, and with
what we touch — that is to say, with sensation.
This popular opinion represents a primitive atti-
tude, a family possession which we have the right
to retain, so long as it is not proved to us to be
false: next, this remark, that by its mode of
apparition at once unexpected, the revealer of
262 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
new cognitions, and independent of our will, as
well as by its content, sensation sums up for us
all we understand by matter, physical state, outer
world. Colour, form, extent, position in space, are
known to us as sensations only. Sensation is not
a means of knowing these properties of matter, it
is these properties themselves.
What objections can be raised against my con-
clusion? One has evidently the right to apply
the term psychological to the whole sensation,
taken en bloc, and comprising in itself both im-
pression and consciousness. The result of this
terminology will be that, as we know nothing
except sensations, the physical will remain un-
knowable, and the distinction between the physical
and the mental will vanish. But it will eventually
be re-established under other names by utilising
the distinction I have made between objects of cog-
nition and acts of cognition ; — a distinction which
is not verbal, and results from observation.
What is not permissible is to declare that sensa-
tion is a psychological phenomenon, and to oppose
this phenomenon to physical reality, as if this
latter could be known to us by any other method
than sensation.
If the opinion I uphold be accepted, if we agree
to see in sensation, understood in a certain way, a
physical state, it will be easy to extend this inter-
pretation to a whole series of different phenomena.
RECAPITULATION
263
To the images, first, which proceed from sensations,
since they are recurring sensations ; to the emo-
tions also, which, according to recent theories,
result from the perception of the movements which
are produced in the heart, the vessels, and the
muscles ; and finally, to effort, whether of will or
of attention, which is constituted by the muscular
sensations perceived, and consequently also results
from corporeal states. The consequences must be
clearly remarked. To admit that sensation is a
physical state, is to admit, by that very fact,
that the image, idea, emotion, and effort — all
those manifestations generally ascribed to the
mind alone — are also physical states.
What, then, is the mind? And what share
remains to it in all these phenomena, from
which it seems we are endeavouring to oust it?
The mind is in that special activity which is
engaged in sensation, image, idea, emotion, and
effort. For a sensation to be produced, there
must be, as I said a little time ago, two
elements: the something felt — a tree, a house,
an animal, a titillation, an odour, — and also
the fact of feeling this something, the con-
sciousness of it, the judgment passed on it, the
reasoning applied to it — in other terms, the
categories which comprehend it. From this
point of view, the dualism contained in sen-
sation is clearly expressed. Sensation as a thing
264 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
felt, that is, the physical part, or matter; sen-
sation as the fact of feeling or of judging, that
is, the mind.
Mark the language I use. We say that matter
is the something felt ; but we do not say for the
sake of symmetry, that the mind is the something
which feels. I have used a more cautious, and, I
think, a more just formula, which places the mind
in the fact of feeling. Let me repeat again, at
the risk of appearing too subtle : the mind is the
act of consciousness; it is not a subject which
has consciousness. For a subject, let it be noted,
a subject which feels, is an object of cognition —
it forms part of the other group of elements, the
group of sensations. In practice we represent by
mind a fragment of our own biography, and by
dint of pains we attribute to this fragment the
faculty of having a consciousness; we make it
the subject of the relation subject-object. But
this fragment, being constituted of memories and
sensations, does not exactly represent the mind,
and does not correspond to our definition; it
would rather represent the mind sensationalised
or materialised.
From this follows the curious consequence that
the mind is endowed with an incomplete exist-
ence ; it is like form, which can only be realised
by its application to matter of some kind. One
may fancy a sensation continuing to exist, to live
RECAPITULATION 265
and to provoke movements, even after ceasing to
be perceived. Those who are not uncompromising
idealists readily admit this independence of the
objects with regard to our consciousness, but the
converse is not true. It is impossible to under-
stand a consciousness existing without an object,
a perception without a sensation to be perceived,
an attention without a point of application, an
empty wish which should have nothing to wish
for ; in a word, a spiritual activity acting without
matter on which to act, or more briefly still —
mind without matter. Mind and matter are
correlative terms; and, on this point, I firmly
believe that Aristotle was much closer to the
truth than many modern thinkers.
I have convinced myself that the definition
of mind at which we have just arrived is, in
its exactness and soberness, the only one which
permits psychology to be distinguished from the
sciences nearest to it. Tou know that it has
been discovered in our days that there exists
a great difficulty in effecting this delimitation.
The definitions of psychology hitherto proposed
nearly all have the defect of not agreeing with
the one thing defined. Time fails us to
review them all, but I shall point out one at
least, because our discussion on this particular
formula will serve as a preparation for taking
in hand the last question that remains to
266 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
be examined — the relation of the mind to the
body.
According to the definition I am aiming at,
psychology would be the science of internal facts,
while the other sciences deal with the external.
Psychology, it has also been said, has as its in-
strument introspection, while the natural sciences
work with the eye, the touch, the ear — that is to
say, with the senses of extrospection.
To this distinction, I reply that in all sciences
there exist but two things: sensations and the
consciousness which accompanies them. A sensa-
tion may belong to the inner or the outer world
through accidental reasons, without any change
in its nature; the sensation of the outer world
is the social sensation which we share with our
fellows. If the excitant which provokes it is in-
cluded in our nervous system, it is the sensation
which becomes individual, hidden to all except
ourselves, and constituting a microcosm by the
side of a macrocosm. What importance can this
have, since all the difference depends on the
position occupied by the excitant ?
But we are persistently told: there are in
reality two ways of arriving at the cognition of
objects — from within and from without. These
two ways are as opposite as the right and wrong
side of a stuff. It is in this sense that psycho-
logy is the science of the within and looks at
RECAPITULATION
267
the wrong side, while the natural sciences reckon,
weigh, and measure the right side. And this is
so true, they add, that the same phenomenon
absolutely appears under two forms radically
different from each other according as they are
looked at from one or the other of the two points
of view. Every one of our thoughts, they point
out to us, is in correlation with a particular state
of our cerebral matter; our thought is the sub-
jective and mental face, the corresponding cerebral
process is the objective and material face.
Though this dualism is frequently presented as
an observed truth, I think it is possible to show
its error. Take an example : I look at the plain
before me, and see a flock of sheep pass through it.
At the same time an observer, armed with a micro-
scope cb la Jules Verne, looks into my brain and
observes there a certain molecular dance which
accompanies my visual perception. Thus, on the
one hand, is my representation; on the other, a
dynamic state of the nerve cells. This is what con-
stitutes the right and the wrong sides of the stuff.
We are told, "See how little resemblance there
is in this ; a representation is a psychical, and a
movement of molecules a material, thing."
But I, on the contrary, think there is a great
resemblance. When I see the flock passing, I
have a visual perception. The observer who, by
the hypothesis, is at that moment looking into
268 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
my brain, also experiences a visual perception.
Granted, they are not the same perception.
How could they be the same ? I am looking at
the sheep, he is looking at the interior of my
brain ; it is not astonishing that, looking at objects
so different, we should receive images also very
different. But, notwithstanding their difference
of object — that is, of content — there are here two
visual perceptions composed in the same way : and
I do not see by what right it can be said that one
represents a material, the other a physical, phe-
nomenon. In reality, each of these perceptions
has a two-fold and psycho-physical value — physical
in regard to the object to which it applies, and
psychical inasmuch as it is an act of perception,
that is to say, of consciousness. For one is just as
much psychical as the other, and as much material,
for a flock of sheep is as material a thing as is my
brain. If we keep this conclusion in our minds,
when we come to make a critical examination of
certain philosophical systems, we shall easily see
the mistake they make.
Spiritualism 1 rests on the conception that the
mind can subsist and work in total independence
of any tie to matter. It is true that, in details,
spiritualists make some modification in this abso-
lute principle in order to explain the perceptions of
the senses and the execution of the orders of the
1 See note on p. 191.
RECAPITULATION
269
will; but the duality, the independence, and the
autonomy of the soul and the body remain, in any
case, the peculiar dogma of the system. This
dogma appears to me utterly false; the mind
cannot exist without matter to which it is
applied; and to the principle of heterogeneity,
so often invoked to forbid all commerce between
the two substances, I reply by appealing to in-
tuition, which shows us the consciousness and
its different forms, comparison, judgment, and
reasoning, so closely connected with sensation
that they cannot be imagined as existing with
an isolated life.
Materialism, we know, argues quite differently ;
it imagines that a particular state of the nerve
centres has the virtue of generating a psychi-
cal phenomenon, which represents, according to
various metaphors, property, function, effect, and
even secretion. Critics have often asked how,
with matter in motion, a phenomenon of thought
could be explained or fabricated. It is very
probable that those who admit this material
genesis of thought, represent it to themselves
under the form of something subtle, like an elec-
tric spark, a puff of wind, a will-of-the-wisp, or an
alcoholic flame. Materialists are not alone respon-
sible for these inadequate metaphors, which pro-
ceed from a metaphysics constructed of concepts.
Let us recollect exactly what a psychical phe-
270 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
noinenon is. Let us banish the will-o'-the-wisps,
replace them by a precise instance, and return to
the visual perception we took as an example a
little while back : without intending a pun, " reve-
nons k nos moutons." These sheep which I see
in the plain are as material, as real, as the cere-
bral movement which accompanies my perception.
How, then, is it possible that this cerebral move-
ment, a primary material fact, should engender
this secondary material fact, this collection of
complicated beings which form a flock?
Before going any further, let us invite another
philosophical system to take a place within the
circle of our discussion ; for the same answer will
suffice for it as well as for the preceding one, and it
will be as well to deal with both at once. This new
system, parallelism, in great favour at the present
day, appears to me to be a materialism perfected
especially in the direction of caution. To escape
the mystery of the genesis of the mind from
matter, this new system places them parallel to
each other and side by side, we might almost say
experimentally, so much do parallelists try to avoid
talking metaphysics. But their position is unten-
able, and they likewise are the victims of the
mirage of concepts ; for they consider the mental
as capable of being parallel to the physical without
mingling with it, and of subsisting by itself and
with a life of its own. Such a hypothesis is only
RECAPITULATION
271
possible by reason of the insufficient definition
given to the mind. If it be recognised that the
mind has an incomplete existence and is only
realised by its incarnation in matter, the figure
which is the basis of parallelism becomes indefen-
sible. There is no longer on the one hand the
physical, and on the other the mental, but on
one side the physical and the mental combined,
and on the other the same combination; which
amounts to saying that the two faces to a
reality, which it was thought had been made out
to be so distinct, are identical. There are not
two faces, but one face ; and the monism, which
certain metaphysicians struggle to arrive at by
a mysterious reconciliation of the phenomenal
duality within the unity of the noumenon, need
not be sought so far afield, since we already
discover it in the phenomenon itself.
The criticisms I have just pointed out to you,
only too briefly, are to be found in several philo-
sophers, confusedly in Berkeley, and with more pre-
cision in M. Bergson's book on Matihre et Mtmoire.
The latter author, remarking that our brain and
the outer world are to us images of the same
order, refuses to admit that the brain, which is
only a very small part of these images, can explain
and contain the other and much larger part, which
comprises the vast universe. This would amount
to saying that the whole is comprised in the part.
272 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
I believe that this objection is analogous to the
one just stated with less ingenuity.
It is interesting to see how M. Bergson gets
out of the difficulty which he himself raised.
Being unwilling to bring forth from the molecular
movement of the brain the representation of the
world, or to superpose the representation on this
movement as in the parallelist hypothesis, he has
arrived at a theory, very ingenious but rather
obscure, which consists in placing the image of "the
world outside the brain, this latter being reduced
to a motor organ which executes the orders of
the mind.
We thus have four philosophical theories, which,
while trying to reconcile mind with matter, give
to the representation a different position in regard
to cerebral action. The spiritualist asserts the
complete independence of the representation in
relation to cerebral movement; the materialist
places it after, the parallelist by the side of, the
cerebral movement ; M. Bergson puts it in front.
I must confess that the last of these systems,
that of M. Bergson, presents many difficulties.
As he does not localise the mind in the body, he
is obliged to place our perception — that is to say,
a part of ourselves — in the objects perceived ; for
example, in the stars when we are looking at them.
The memory is lodged in distant planes of con-
sciousness which are not otherwise defined. We
RECAPITULATION
273
understand with difficulty these emigrations, these
crumblings into morsels of our mind. This would
not matter if our author did not go so far as to
maintain that the sensory nerves of the brain are
not sensory nerves, and that the severance of them
does not suppress sensations, but simply the motor
efforts of these sensations. All the physiologist
in me protests against the rashness of these
interpretations.
The principal difficulties of the problem of the
union between the mind and the body proceed
from the two following facts, which seem incom-
patible. On the one hand, our thought is con-
ditioned by a certain intra-cerebral movement of
molecules and atoms ; and, on the other hand, this
same thought has no consciousness of this mole-
cular movement. It does not know the path of
the wave in our nerves; it does not suspect, for
example, that the image of the objects is reversed
in the retina, or that the excitements of the right
eye for the most part go into the left hemisphere.
In a word, it is no anatomist. It is a very curious
thing that our consciousness enters into relation
only with the extra-cerebral, the external objects,
and the superficies of our bodies.
From this, this exact question suggests itself: a
molecular wave must come as far as our visual
cerebral centre for us to have the perception of
the object before our eyes; how is it that our con-
s
274 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
sciousness is unaware of this physiological event
from which it depends, and is borne towards the
distant object as if it sprang forth outside our
nervous system?
Let us first remark, that if we do not perceive
this wave, yet it must contain all we know of the
external object, for it is evident that we only know
of it that part of its properties which it transmits to
our nerves and our nerve centres. All the known
substance of the external object is, then, implied
in this vibration ; it is there, but it is not there
by itself. The vibration is the work of two colla-
borators; it expresses at once the nature of the
object which provokes it, and the nature of the
nerve apparatus which transports it, as the furrow
traced in the wax of the phonograph implies the
joint action of an aerial vibration with a stylus,
a cylinder, and a clock-work apparatus.
I therefore suppose — and this is, I say it plainly,
but an hypothesis — that if the nervous vibration
so little resembles the external excitant which
generates it, it is because the factor nervous system
superadds its effect to the factor excitant. Let us
imagine, now, that we have managed to separate
these two effects, and we shall understand that
then the nervous event so analysed might re-
semble only the object, or only the nervous system.
Now, of these two effects, one is constant, that one
which represents the action of the nervous system;
RECAPITULATION 275
there is another which varies with each new per-
ception, and even with every moment of the same
perception — that is to say, the object. It is not
impossible to understand that the consciousness
remains deaf to the constant and sensitive to the
variable element. There is a law of consciousness
which has often been described, and fresh applica-
tions of which are met with daily : this is, that the
consciousness only maintains itself by change,
whether this change results from the exterior by
impressions received, or is produced from the in-
terior by movements of the attention. Let us here
apply this empirical law, and admit that it contains
a first principle. It will then be possible for us to
understand that the consciousness formed into a
dialyser of the undulation may reject that constant
element which expresses the contribution of the
nervous system, and may lay bare the variable
element which corresponds to the object : so that
an intestinal movement of the cerebral substance,
brought to light by this analytical consciousness,
may become the perception of an object. By ac-
cepting this hypothesis, we restore to the sensory
nerves and to the encephalic centres their property
of being the substrata of representation, and avoid
the objection made above against materialism and
parallelism, that they did not explain how a
cerebral movement, which is material, can en-
gender the perception of an object which differs
276 THE MIND AND THE BRAIN
greatly from it and is yet as material as the
movement itself. There is not here, properly
speaking, either generation, transformation, or
metamorphosis. The object to be perceived is
contained in the nerve current. It is, as it were,
rolled up in it ; and it must be made to go forth
from the wave to be seen. This last is the work
of the consciousness.
INDEX
Abstractions, character of, 8
" Archives de Psychologic," 198
Aristotle, 106, 129, 169, 186-190,
201, 265
Association, "inseparable," 116
Automatism, 250
Bain, 3, 121, 186, 189, 219, 245,
252
Belfast, congress at, 207
Bergson, 47, 86 ; theory of
images and brain, 226-230;
refutation of, 230-233 ; 259,
271, 272
Berkeley, 47, 109, 225, 226, 227,
271
Berthelot, 147
Binet, 3, 191 ; theory of mind
and brain, 236, 255
Body, union with mind, 179 ;
Aristotle on body and soul,
188
Brain, 225, 226, 227; and con-
sciousness, 236, 237, 247
Brieux, 209
Brillouin, 10
Categories, 106, 107, 114, 190,
263
Change, law of consciousness,
245
Cognition, 15, 33, 58, 98, 105,
107, 117, 123, 140, 141, 145,
153. 155. 157, 162, 184, 190,
195, 208, 225, 228, 241, 243,
246, 251, 260, 262, 264, 266
Comte, Auguste, 213
Concepts, method of, 6, 7 ;
metaphysics of, 8, 223
Conclusion, 234-255
I Condillac, 98
, Condition, normal, 80
Consciousness, 58, 195 ; anatomi-
cal ignorance of, 237, 238;
definition of : relation subject-
object, categories of the under-
standing, separability of the
consciousness from its object,
idealism, 96-134; as dialyser,
244 ; law of, 275, 276 ; and
nerve current, 247-255 ; mani-
festations of, 236 ; of a state,
63 ; origin of, 180 ; phenomena
of, 17, 88, 190, 210, 223 ; use-
less luxury, 222
Contiguity, law of, 169, 170, 173
Current, motor, psychology or,
248, 249 ; nerve, 246, 249, 250,
251, 252, 276 ; sensory, 250
Danteo, " Les Lois Naturelles,"
10
Dastre, "La Vie et la Mort," 10,
145
Demooritus, 158
Descartes, 64, 77, 7* 97. 15*. *93
" Discours de la Methode,"
77
Dreams, 82, 87
Dualism, of mind and matter,
69, 71, 182, 140, 155, 182, 254,
263
Duality, of sensation, 78; of
ideation, 78 ; of consciousness
and object, 190; of nature,
224 ; of soul ana body, 269
Duhem, evolution of mechanics,
10
278
INDEX
Ebbinghaus, 160, 161
Eccentricity, law of, 247
Effort, psychological nature of,
94 ; sensation of, 249, 263
Ego, 75, 86, 88, 89, 99, 152 ; and
non-ego, 96, 100, 101
Emotions, definitions of the,
88-95. 263
Energy, 30,31
Enumeration, method of, 6
Epiphenomenon, 222
"Etude Ezperimentale de l'ln-
telligenoe " (Binet), 8
Excitant, the, 18, 21, 22, 83,
244, 257, 258, 266
Existence or reality, 84, 85
Externospeotion, 140-146
Fathebs of the Church, 201
Fechner, 149
Ferrier, 73
Finality, definition of, 163
Flournoy, 70, 73, 182, 191, 198
Geneva, congress of .philosophy
Gobfot, E, 44 La Finalite sans
Intelligence," 164
Habit, law of, 250
Hallucinations, 81, 82, 87
Hamilton, William, 47, 65, 256 ;
" Philosophy " of, 47
Herbart, 90, 91
Herrick, 0. L., 86
Heterogeneity, axiom of, 182,
183; principle of, 8, 73. 74,
182, 183, 194, 205* 2o6> 2o8 t
215, 269
4 ' Histoire du Materialisme "
(Lange), 137
Hume, 64, 109
Huxley, 11 8, 222
Idealism, principle of, 64, 73,
1 19-125 ; refutation of, 95-200
Ideation, duality of, 78, 80
Identity, 221
Image, definition of the, 76-87,
263
Intellectualism, definition of, 166
Intelligence, only inactive con-
sciousness, 117; materialist
explanation of, 204
Inter-aotionism, 185
Introspection, 140-146
Intuition, 269
Jam SB, William, theory of emo-
tion, 91-94 ; 100, 163
"Journal of Philosophy," 100
Kant, 34, 106, 107, 108, 181,
190, 235
Kelvin, Lord, 11
Knowable, the, 4, 5, 7
Knowledge and its object, 55-
59; two groups of; 98
Kulpe, 160
" L'Ame et le Corps," 3
" La Finalite sans Intelligence "
(Goblot), 164
" La Nouvelle Monadologie "
(Renouvier et Prat), 64
" La Philosophie de Hamilton,"
47
" La Vie et la Mort " (Dastre), 10
Ladd, 58 n.
Lange, theory of emotion, 91 ;
"Histoire du Materialisme,"
137
Law of contiguity, 162 n., 169,
170. 173
Law of eccentricity, 247
Law of mental expression re-
jected, 162 n. ; mental distin-
guished from physical, 163
Law, psychological compared
with natural, 167, 168
Law of relativity of cognition,
245
Law of similarity, 162 n., 169, 170
Le Bon, Gostave Involution
delaMatiere"), 27
"Le Paralogisme psycho-physi-
ologique" (Bergson), 226
INDEX
279
"Le Personnellisme " (Renou-
vier), 226
" Lecons de Philosophie (Rabier),
148
Leibnitz, 129, 195, 220
Littre*, 207
Locke, 139
" Logical and Psychological
Distinction between the
True and the Real " (Herriok),
86
Lotse, 73, 148
Lyons, 60
Maoh, 160
Materialism, origin and defini-
tion of, 201-203; refutation
of, 203-214 ; 269, 275
"Matiere et Mlmoire" (Berg-
son), 86, 226, 229, 230, 271
Matter, definition of, 3-51 ; de-
scription of, 256-260 ; distinct
from mind, 3 ; domain of phy-
sics, 6; mechanical theories
of, 27-43 ; non-significant pro-
perties of, 172, 173; X of, 18,
21, 25, 49
Mechanics, fetichism of, 220
Mechanism, nervous, to imitate
intellectual act, 221
Metaphysics, 128 n., 234, 235
" M6taphysique et Psychologic "
(Flournoy), 182
Method, rule of, 5 ; of concepts
and enumeration, 6
Meudon, 152
Mill, John Stuart, 13, 19, 47*64,
116, 121
Mind, definition of, 55-175 ;
260-266; distinction between,
and matter, 3 ; domain of
psychology, 6 ; incomplete life
of, 179-190; inseparability of,
and matter, 185 ; inventory of,
56 ; " Mind and Body " (Bain),
3.219
Monadism, 195
Monism, 69, 271
Motion, 35
Movement, molecular, 73 ; vi-
bratory, 31
Mailer, 21
Munsterberg, 160
Nebvbs, motor, 228, 230 ; power
of distinction, 22; specific
energy of, 21, 46, 242; sen-
sory, 228, 230, 232, 273, 275 ;
vibrations of, 242, 243 ; ner-
vous system, 16, 17, 24, 25, 44,
45, 4»» "5. "8, 241, 257, 258,
274. 275
Noumena, 34, 35, 43, 109, 142**.,
260, 271
Object. See Subject
Observation, 235
Organ, function of, material, 206
Ostwald, 10
PA2TO ATEBIALISM, 70
Panpsychism, 70, 195, 198
Parallelism, definition of, 214-
220; refutation of, 221-224;
251; 252, 270-272; 275
Parallelist theory, 132
Perceptible, the, 84, 8j
Perception, intermediate char-
acter of, 15; of a child, 232
Personality, formation of, 100
Phenomena, auditory, 37 ; physi-
cal, 30, 31 ; visual, 37
Phenomenism of Berkeley*, 109
n. 1
" Philosophical Review," 70
Philosophy, history of, 200
•« Philosophy of Hamilton" (J.
8. Mill), 47
Pilon, 113
Plato, 201
Preadaptation, process of, 164-
175
Prince, Morton, 70
Probabilism forced upon us, 174
"Psychical Review," 86
" Psychologic," 112
" Psychologic du Raisonnement"
(Binet), 113
28o IN
Psychology, definitions of, 135-
I75» 265, 266
Rabies, E., 98, 112, 148
Radio-activity, 27
Reason developed according to
law, 169
Recapitulation, 256-276
Reid, Thomas, 47, 65, 259
Relativity, principle of, 104, 109,
252
Renouvier, 64, 97, 106, 205, 226
44 Revue Qenerale des Sciences,"
10
" Revue de Mdtaphysique et de
Morale," 164, 226
M Revue de Philosophic," 10
Raymond, Du Bois, 73
Ribot, 137
Search, direction of, 5, 6
Sensation, 10, 14, 35, 44, 50, 51,
55 ; definition of, 60-75 » m * 8 -
trusted by physicists, 28-30 ;
only means of acquaintance
with outer world, 10-26, 50,
256-259 ; physical or mental,
261-266 ; visual, 73
Sensibility, cerebral, 239, 240;
employment in physiology, 61
Separation of consciousnessfrom
its object, 126-134
Similarity. See Law
Simon, Dr., 209
Societe Francaise de Philosophie,
256
Soul, distinct from body, 77;
union of body and, 179-276
Souls, disembodied, 45
Specificity of Nerves. See Nerves
Spencer, Herbert, 245
Spiritualism, refutation of, 192,
195, 268, 269
Strong, If., 195
Subject, defined and distin-
guished from object, 96
Substance, definition of, 102
Substantial ism, 134
Symbols, mechanical theories of
matter, 27-43
System, nervous, 16, 17, 24, 25,
44,45,48, 115, 228, 241, 257,
258, 274, 275
Tains, 79
Theories, modern, 225-233
Thought, not a movement, 7, 8 ;
characteristics of, 76
Truth, 84, 85
Tyndall, 89, 207
Unconsciousness, 127-133
Understanding, categories of
the, 103-118
Unknowable, the, 25, 26
Union of mind and body, prob-
lem of, 273; of soul and
body, 179-276
Verne, Jules, 267
Vogt, Karl, 204
Wave, molecular, 273, 274, 276 ;
nerve, 243
Will, the most characteristic
psychical function, 166, 167
World, assembly of sensations,
26; our ideas, 65; external
known only by our sensations,
10-26; 50,256-259
X of matter, 18, 21, 25, 49
Zoologist, visual sensationS*of,
13
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